Battle Scars
by reallydesiredusername
Summary: Calypso knows she isn't normal. Maybe that's why bad luck seems to follow her around. But things change when she meets Sam and Dean Winchester and realizes she fits in their world more than her own. But there's more to Calypso than they think, from her unspoken past to her mysterious powers. (No romance, mature themes such as torture, depression, and rape)
1. Chapter 1

It was a day like any other. The sun was hidden by a blanket of pressing gray clouds and the wind was blowing the dropped newspapers and other litter that had been thrown carelessly on the ground in the city of Seattle around in endless circles. A girl made her way up the street, a filthy purple sweatshirt, much too large for her skinny frame, wrapped around her with the hood pulled up. She had her arms held tightly to her stomach, trying to hug herself and make up for the lack of warmth around her, from both the chilly air and the uncaring people who walked by without giving the poor girl in an old ratty sweatshirt and torn jeans a second look. But she was used to it. And, strangely, she liked it. It was freedom, a strange concept that she had never truly understood until a few days ago.

The girl shuffled forward with her head down, walking into the wind, her black hair tucked in the back of the hood of her sweatshirt. She overheard snippets of the conversations people were having as she walked by. Teenagers moving around in packs, leaving no room for anyone else on the sidewalk, were chattering excitedly. She gave them a wide berth. She walked by an open bakery and breathed in the mouthwatering scent of fresh baked bread that she wished she could afford. It was a day just like any other - or so she tried to convince herself.

The girl knew what she had to do today, even if she didn't like it. Her eyes darted around, looking for potential targets, preferably with few people around them. Pickpocketing wasn't easy for her. She hated stealing what was rightfully someone else's, even if it was for her survival. But she also had a clashing part of her that she desperately tried to suppress which whispered that it was for her own good, that she was more important than the people she stole from, that she didn't even know them anyway, so what's the harm?

Her eyes suddenly stopped on two familiar looking young men striding down the street towards her. One was significantly taller than the other by three or four inches, with scruffy dark hair. The other was shorter, though still very tall, with dark hair that was cropped closer to his head. And, though she couldn't tell from this distance, she knew the taller one's eyes were hazel, while the other's were a lighter green. How did she know this? Where has she seen them before?

They passed the girl without looking, and she became certain she had encountered them before, but they didn't seem to know her. Curious, she turned around and followed them.

"I don't know, maybe they're just picking off people on the streets so that they won't get caught," she heard one of them say, conversing with the other in hushed tones.

"Yeah, but it makes no sense," the other replied. "Why cover your tracks if you're just gonna leave the body there? There has to be something we missed."

The girl's eyebrows scrunched together. So these two were police officers, or detectives. But, if they were, she wouldn't have seen them before. Something was up.

"Maybe," his partner said with a laugh. "So, all we know is that all the victims were girls living on the streets and, thanks to Caleb, the attacker was a vampire." The girl's eyes widened as she shuffled forward, looking at the ground, but she didn't make any noise, wanting to know what they would say next. "We still aren't even close to finding it. The city is huge, and all the attacks were all in different places. How are we supposed to track the thing down?"

No longer listening, convinced the pair was insane, she noticed how they both wore multiple layers of jackets with large pockets. She bit her lip unsurely. She needed money, and they were pretty good targets, but she needed to know who they were. If she stole from them, it was only a matter of time before they figured out they were robbed, and then only a short jump to her, since she wasn't a very skilled pickpocket and had contact with the victims after she stole. She looked around the street. There were very few people around.

_Do it,_ her internal voice whispered. _Who cares who they are? You need to do it. You are more important than them._

_No I'm not_, she protested silently. Yet, as she disagreed, she found herself moving forward even faster than before. She bumped into the shorter one, quickly inserting her hand into one of his pockets, and pulling out his wallet, putting it into her pocket before he turned to look.

"Oh, crap!" she exclaimed, putting one of her hands over her mouth as the man turned around. "I'm sorry! I wasn't paying attention to where was going!" It was one of her better performances, or so she thought.

He looked at her, his glare cutting through her like knives. She stared at the ground uneasily.

"Wallet," he said simply, holding his hand out expectantly.

She froze, her eyes wide and her mouth opened slightly. She looked at him for a moment before running. She didn't get two steps before a hand wrapped around her wrist, tugging her back. She tried to yank it free, but she knew it was a futile attempt. He was strong, surprisingly so, and she was a skinny girl with no muscle power at all.

"Sorry, girly, but I need my wallet," he said, throwing her back to where she originally stood. She flattened herself against the wall behind her and balled her fists up in the sleeves of her sweatshirt, a nervous habit. She looked up at them for the first time, making eye contact with the taller one.

"Her eyes," the taller man said out of the blue, sounding a little shocked.

The girl reached up to touch them, blushing. She knew exactly what he was talking about. Most people had brown, green, hazel, or blue eyes, but not her. No, instead she was stuck with a deep, obvious purple. She had heard of people with violet eyes before, but she knew theirs weren't as bright as hers. Her eyes were so piercing, they were the only feature anyone ever focused on. Not her abnormally pale skin or wavy dark hair, or even her bright red lips. They were the only thing she could focus on when she looked at herself, too.

The green eyed man's eyes narrowed.

"Never seen that before," he growled. "What are you?"

"What-" she began, then it hit her. Suddenly brought to the front of her mind, she saw the ghost woman melt into a puddle, the humanoid creature burn to a crisp, the poor girl bursting into flames above the tall man's head. But this couldn't be possible. Those were dreams. Sure, they were strange and vivid, but dreams just the same. "No... No freaking way..." She whispered, not wanting to believe it.

"What are you?!" The shorter one, Dean, she remembered, roared, reaching towards her. She flinched and squeaked, trying to shrink back even more. This situation wasn't one that she was unfamiliar with. And it never ended well.

"Don't hurt me!" she pleaded quietly, eyes wide and both hands reaching up and holding onto her heart locket like it was her lifeline.

"Maybe we won't if you tell us what you are!" Dean said angrily, pulling out a knife. The girl's eyes widened and she caught a panicked sound in the back of her throat. Not again, oh God, not again.

"Maybe this isn't the best place to do this," Dean's younger brother, Sam, said, looking around uneasily. Dean, just realizing they were on a very public street, looked to see if people were watching. Luckily for him, nobody was. He looked back at the terrified girl, nodded, then grabbed her arm, dragging her towards a dark alley just a few steps away. She was silent. What was the point of pleading for her life when she didn't even have one to lose?

She was shoved up against a wall, the stone pressed into her back, and she felt the icy edge of a long knife being pressed into her neck. Dean didn't even know how pointless that gesture was.

"I will repeat myself one more time before I slit your throat. What are you?" he growled. She briefly considered not telling them about her dreams, but figured she had nothing to lose. And if they were nice, maybe, just maybe, they would give her something to eat. Her stomach made a quiet noise at the thought.

"I'm human, I swear!" she told him frantically, hoping this wouldn't turn into a fight. She couldn't win against these two. Maybe one, with luck, but they both were well trained and incredible fighters. She was neither, really. "I'm not one of those-those things you hunt!"

Dean's eyes widened and turned to look at Sam, who looked just as shocked, if not more, at her statement. Dean quickly hid his surprise and turned his attention back to the girl, putting more pressure on the knife.

"How did you know that?!" Dean asked angrily, his eyes piercing her like knives.

"I-I had dreams, alright?" she said. "The two of you fought, well, you fought monsters, like a-a ghost and a... Wendigo, I think? Your names are Sam and Dean Winchester, you're looking for your dad, John, who went missing while on a hunt. And... And that's it." She almost mentioned the last scene she had seen, but knew how much it would hurt Sam to bring up, so she kept silent. Sam and Dean exchanged a glance, seeming to agree on something, then looked back at her quizzically.

"But if you're not the monster around here, then who's killing all those people?" Sam asked after a very long silence.

She shrugged, sort of confused that he wasn't weirded out by the fact that she had dreams about the two.

"I don't know what it is," she said shyly, "but I might know where it is."

That piqued their interest. Sam and Dean exchanged a look again, then Dean dropped the knife from her throat. The girl didn't move, unsure about what they planned to do next.

"What do you mean you might know where it is?" Sam asked carefully, keeping a close eye on her.

She looked down, uncomfortable with the fact that she was alone with two boys. Sure, they seemed nice enough, but she wasn't convinced yet.

"Please," Sam said, soothingly. "This could save lives. You can help us."

She looked up, eyes wide and frightened, convinced she was going insane for what she saw.

"I saw him," she whispered, avoiding eye contact. "I saw a man, covered in blood, and I thought he might need help, so I followed him. But he wasn't limping or anything. And I saw him walk into a warehouse." She looked at the two. "He checked around before he went inside. His face was covered in blood and his teeth were points, if I remember correctly. Does any of that help?"

"Yes, it does," Dean said gruffly. "When was this?"

"Last night," she replied shakily.

"You seem to be coping with surprisingly well," he noticed. Her eyes flitted away from his.

"I'm pretty good at adjusting," she said vaguely. "And... One more thing... He saw me." She looked back up, eyes peering through her long lashes. "We made eye contact and he-he pointed at me." She lifted her head up, flitting her eyes from Sam to Dean, and back again, nervous. "He pointed and mouthed... I think he mouthed, 'you're next.'"

The pair looked at her suspiciously for a moment, not sure if they believed her.

"How do we know you aren't lying?" Dean asked.

She shrugged.

"I guess you just have to trust me?" she said, trying to sound confident, but failing miserably. Sam and Dean exchanged a look, having a quick silent conversation, ending with Dean nodding briefly.

"All right," he said. "Look-" He realized he didn't know what the girl's name was. "What's your name?"

She looked at him, unsure. What was she supposed to do? It was drilled into every child's head since preschool, 'don't give your name to strangers.' She had already shoved aside the whole, 'don't talk to strangers,' rule, though, hadn't she? But her name was uncommon. It could be dangerous to tell them it. But, somehow, this felt different. She might not trust them quite yet, but she didn't think they planned to hurt her.

"My name's Calypso."

"Last name?" Sam asked. She shook her head, fear clearly shining in her eyes for a moment.

"I don't give my last name to strangers," Calypso told Sam, looking anywhere but at him. She bit her cheek when she realized her voice had trembled. She wouldn't go back. Ever.

"All right then, Calypso," Dean said while Sam looked at her strangely. "I know this is probably hard to deal with, but I need you to trust me, ok?" She nodded solemnly. "A vampire is out to get you. My guess is more than one. You got that?" She nodded again, not looking as confused or scared as he thought she would. "You aren't safe out here. We're gonna take you to our motel room, so pack up all your stuff. I dunno how long this is gonna take. So... Gather your things I guess." He shrugged.

"Ready to go," she said, not a second after he finished. He looked taken aback.

"You-you don't have anything? Anything at all?" Sam asked. Calypso shook her head.

"No, nothing that I'm not wearing right now," she said quietly, looking down shyly at her beaten down sneakers. "I don't just hang out on the streets, I live on them."

Dean raised his eyebrows and Sam had pity and concern clear in his eyes. Of course, they figured from the moment she told them she was targeted that she was homeless. The vampires went after people on the streets so far. Why not continue the pattern?

"So, where are we going?" Calypso asked, clenching her jaw, trying not to spill too much to these two guys she just met.

"Just up the street," Dean replied quickly, picking up on the fact that she didn't want to talk about it.

"Let's go," she said, walking the way he pointed.

As she strode forward, she heard Sam snicker.

"Dude, you just tried to kill a teenage girl!" he laughed quietly.

"Shut up, Sam," Dean replied angrily. He looked at Calypso curiously. "How old _are_ you,anyway? Eighteen?"

"You're off a few years," Calypso replied matter-of-factly over her shoulder. Dean smiled. Clearly this woman knew how to use makeup, then. "I'm only fifteen."

There was silence as Sam and Dean absorbed the information, utterly shocked, then, "You're only fifteen years old? What the hell are you doing on the streets?!" Dean asked, angry. "Why aren't you in, y'know, high school or something?"

Calypso bit her lip and clenched her fists in her sleeves. She knew this would happen, and didn't have a good answer.

"It doesn't matter," she said, straightening her spine. "Let's just... Bring down these vampires, okay?"

"...Okay."

Three hours later all three were settled in the motel room, waiting. Calypso stared out the window, playing with her necklace, lost in thought.

"That's a nice necklace," Sam observed. Calypso looked down fondly at the large silver pendant at the end of the long chain. It was beautiful, a heart with amethysts dotted around, creating a rippling affect. "It's a locket, actually," she said, demonstrating how it opened to reveal the photograph of a smiling woman with shimmering black hair like Calypso's and twinkling blue eyes that seemed to pierce any person who set eyes upon them. The woman was smiling down at a young girl, maybe three years old, with violet eyes and the same black hair, hiding behind the woman's leg. "I've had it since I was six. It feels like it's a part of me, now," she said, smiling nostalgically.

"Who's that?" Dean asked. Calypso's eyes softened.

"She's my mother," she said, not taking her eyes off of the picture. There was a small silence.

"Something happened to her, didn't it?" Sam asked gently. Calypso's small smile faded.

"She... She passed away when I was young," she said. Feeling her eyes water, she turned, looking out the window again. Sam got up and joined her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, making her tense up and step backwards, which in turn caused Sam's hand to go back to his side.

"I'm sorry," Sam said in the same tone as before. "Dean and I, our Mom did, too."

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. There was a moment of nostalgia before Dean cleared his throat.

"Well, that little chat was great and all, but I'm dying for some food," Dean said, getting up. "You two want anything?"

"I doubt I could keep anything down," Calypso said, shaking her head.

"You're that full, huh?" Dean joked.

"Oh, no, not exactly," she said, blushing. "More like I'm that hungry."

"Are you kidding me?" Dean asked, frozen by the door. "When was the last time you've eaten?"

"A week ago, I think," Calypso replied, not sounding like she cared. "It's hard to keep track, really." Before either of the brothers could react, they heard a feminine scream from the hallway. Calypso spun around to look at the door, eyes wide and her right hand at the waist of her jeans. Dean turned to her quickly.

"Stay in here until we come back," he said hurriedly. "If anything, other than us, comes knocking, use this to fend them off." He placed a machete on the bed. "Aim for the head." Then both he and Sam were gone.

Calypso looked around nervously, her eyes flitting from one place to the next without really taking anything in. She strode up to the bed and took the machete on it in her hands, holding the handle like it was her lifeline. Her breath came in short little gasps. This wasn't something she was used to. Vampires? Seriously? She wasn't scared for herself, though, but the two brothers that went out to defend her without knowing anything about her. She couldn't care less about what happened to her, really.

She heard a yell from somewhere down the hall from her room and tensed, hoping things were going okay. As she took a deep breath to steady herself, she heard the startling sound of glass shattering from right behind her. She gasped and spun around to see a large man with brown eyes and scarily red lips picking the glass off of his shirt, another man crawling in through the now broken window behind him.

Calypso squeaked and tried to get to the door, but the second man was already blocking it. She backed up against the wall, holding the machete between her and the two vampires.

"Hello, sweetie," one of them said, creeping closer. "You've gotten yourself in a lot of trouble, haven't you?"

"Don't touch me!" she said, surprisingly steadily, her hands turning white from gripping her weapon too hard.

"Oh, don't worry," he said, a terrifying smile on his face. "We don't plan to kill you quite yet. Our master wants you alive so he can kill you himself." He clucked his tongue, shaking his head. "Bad idea to get those two hunters involved, honey. He's gonna kill you nice and slow."

"He might have a bit of trouble with that," Calypso said before lunging at him. She knew it was a futile attempt from the moment she sprung at him. She was too small, he was too big, and she wasn't holding the machete right. The vampire hit her arm, making her drop her weapon, then grabbed her other and flung her against the wall. She hit it hard and sunk to the ground, seeing four vampires instead of two. One crept up to her and, without saying a word, wrapped his hand around her neck, and lifted her up while keeping her against the wall. She kicked futilely at him, black spots dotting her vision. He was laughing, saying something, but she couldn't understand what. She felt herself slipping under, like so many times before, but then the grip around her neck was gone, and she was a pile on the ground. She looked up, breathing heavily, as she watched Sam and Dean take on the two vampires, a blur of silver blades.

She slowly stood up, clutching the bed as if it was her lifeline, and saw Dean finish off his vampire, its head hitting the ground and rolling up to her, its eyes blank and glassy. Seeing its partner dead, the other vampire let out a scream.

"This isn't over!" he screeched before diving out the window. Dean rushed to follow him, but turned back, shaking his head. It was gone.

"You okay?" he asked Calypso.

"Yeah," she replied hoarsely. She coughed, trying to breathe again. "I'm fine."

"I didn't think they would come through the window," Dean said regretfully. "I'm sorry we weren't here to help you."

"Really, it's just fine," Calypso said. "You got here eventually. What happened out there?"

"There were two others," Sam began to explain, wiping blood off his blade. "They attacked the lady at the front desk. I guess it was to get Dean and me out, so the other two could come in here to kill you."

"To capture me, actually," Calypso interrupted.

"Huh?"

"The 'master,' or so they called him, is mad because I told you where he is," she replied calmly in the quiet voice that she always used. "He wants me alive so he can kill me himself, as slowly as he wants." She laughed bitterly. "Somehow, I don't think that plan is gonna work."

Sam and Dean exchanged looks, unsure what she meant. They finally brushed the remark off, and set to creating a new plan.

"Do you think they'd stay in the same place they were in when she saw them?" Sam asked Dean as they finished packing up their things.

"Maybe," he replied, throwing a bag over his shoulder. "If they are in the same place, they must be pretty sure we can't breach it. But it's worth a shot." He turned to Calypso. "Do you think you could get us there?"

She nodded, getting up.

"I'm ready whenever you are," she said.

"Let's go."

They pulled into the alley next to the building a few minutes later. It was just as Calypso remembered, from its cracked windows to its graffitied outdoor walls. She watched as a man walked out of the shadows towards the door, looking around anxiously.

"That's it," she pointed out from the front seat of the impala. "And that's the vampire who survived."

"Perfect," Dean said, unbuckling. "Sam and I are going in. Stay here and don't move."

"I'm sorry, did you just say I'm staying here?" Calypso said angrily, much louder than usual. She wasn't going to be left out of this. "Don't you remember thirty minutes ago when you told me to do the same thing? Because that worked out SO WELL! No, I'm coming with you!" She didn't wait for either of them to say otherwise, instead opening the door and climbing out of the car.

"Didn't expect her to react like that," Dean muttered, climbing out after her. She was waiting by the trunk, where she had seen him and Sam put away their weapons earlier.

She turned to him and opened her mouth to start yelling at him again, but before she could, he began to speak.

"Look, you have a point," he said. "But there are a lot more vampires in there than just the one that survived at the motel." He chose his next words carefully. "Sam and I, we have more experience with this than you do. We can handle this."

"I can help!" she insisted.

"Just stay in the car."

"No!"

Dean sighed.

"Fine," he said. Calypso smiled triumphantly. It was almost too easy.

_Click_.

Calypso looked down in shock at the silver circle that had just been fastened around her wrist, her smile fading. Anxiety was quickly taking over her joy.

"You didn't give me a choice," Dean told her. "I'm not letting you face a nest of vampires." He pulled her back to the car by the handcuffs. She didn't struggle. She was familiar with handcuffs, and the memories she had with them were ones she kept securely in the back of her mind, ones she didn't want to remember.

Dean pushed her into the passenger seat, then leaned over her to close the second loop in the handcuffs around the steering wheel with a click. She stared straight ahead, not looking at Sam or Dean, angry at both them and the fact that she was sitting out the fight in the car.

"Look, I'm sorry, but you didn't give me much of a choice here," Dean said. She clenched her jaw, not looking at him. He sighed in exasperation. "We'll be back in a little bit. Don't worry. This isn't your fight." He shut the door and joined Sam at the entry into the building.

"Like hell it isn't!" Calypso exclaimed as soon as they were out of sight, rattling the handcuffs. She growled. "I am going to get out of these if it kills me!"

Meanwhile, Sam and Dean were walking around inside the building, trying to find their way through the confusing interior of the building, wondering why they haven't seen any vampires yet. Sam turned to Dean, questioning if they were in the right place, but Dean was too focused on his work to notice. As they carefully made their way down the hall, a shadow rushed out of the darkness, jumping on Sam.

"Sam!" Dean yelled as he watched the vampire knock his brother's skull against the ground, knocking him out. Dean swung his machete down at the vampire's neck, and succeeded in removing its head. Yet, as Dean succeeded in killing the first vampire, three more emerged from what seemed to be nowhere, surrounding him. Dean looked around, trying to clear his mind, become brave, but there were too many, and there was only one of him. So this was how he was going to go. So be it. At least he knew he wasn't going down without a fight. Then he remembered he locked poor fifteen year old Calypso in the car, handcuffed to the steering wheel without a weapon, easy prey for the vampires. Well, damn it.

He turned from one vampire to the next, unwilling to keep one behind his back for too long. One showed off her impressive sharpened fangs with a hiss, while the other two smiled evilly.

"Stand down," a powerful voice sounded from the shadows. A tall figure came forward, his face regal and twisted at the same time. "So, you're one of the hunters that poor, frightened little Calypso ran to for help." Dean blinked, trying not to look as shocked as he felt. "Oh, yes. You're confused as to why I know her name." He smiled, showing perfectly white teeth, his brown eyes staring at Dean without amusement. "You see, we seek out our prey months before we actually feed off of them. You'd be surprised what I know about the girl. Quite interesting, really."

"I'm just gonna take a guess here," Dean said, sounding confident. "You're big daddy vamp of this charming group, which is missing three because Sam and I, we killed them."

"Yes, which is a minor situation, in which someone needs to be punished," the vampire continued, combing through his already slicked back platinum hair. "But that needs not be you or your brother, boy. I only insist on having the girl." His eyes gleamed. "I want to taste her crimson blood in my mouth and hear her begging for mercy, the little coward. I want to watch her die. And if you give her to me, I will let you go free and my nest will move to a new town, and never bother anyone in your charming family again."

"You're monologuing," Dean pointed out.

"Enough of the attitude, boy!" the vampire yelled, stepping forward threateningly. "I hold your life in my hands, and all you have to do is agree to give me the girl! Or else I kill you and your brother almost as slowly as I kill her when I find her!"

"You know what?" Dean said. "Bite me!"

"What a shame," the vampire said. "Knock him out!"

The three vampires lunged forward, all at once. Dean swung wildly with his machete and succeeded in taking one of the attacking vampires head's off. The other two backed off slightly, snarling. They stared at Dean, who stared back aggressively. Then they pounced again. Dean swung again and missed, just barely. Then he swung another time, hitting a vampire's neck again, successfully detaching its head from his body. But as the head hit the floor, the last vampire tackled him from behind, pinning him down on the ground. She hissed as she punched him, once, then twice, then three times, all very good punches. Dean fell back, dizzy, and vaguely heard the master vampire give the remaining member of his group an order.

"Go find the girl," he said. "And when you do, bring her to me. I will end her life tonight. No more waiting!"

"Yes master."

_No_, Dean thought woozily, _I have to protect the damn teenager_.

Then he blacked out.

Sam woke up chained to a wall, in a large gray room, set up as an office, or so he assumed. He turned his head to his left side and found Dean, already awake, looking around with sharp eyes. Dean glanced over at him, noticing he was conscious. He tried to remember what happened, but all he remembered was walking through the hallway then a black blur.

"Oh, glad to see you're both awake!" came a deep voice from the doorway. Sam looked up to see a man with platinum blond hair and dark eyes.

"Sam, this is big Daddy vamp. Head of the nest that we almost completely wiped out." Dean said.

"Yes, all but one member, I'm afraid," Daddy vamp said, coming closer. "For that, you will both have to pay. But perhaps I could make your deaths much quicker if you give me some information. You see, I sent the last vampire in my nest out to find your little friend, Calypso. She hasn't returned yet, and I sent her about an hour ago. I must assume that Calypso is evading her somehow. So I need her location."

"And as I said before, we aren't cooperating." Dean cut in.

"I wasn't going to ask you," Daddy vamp laughed. "I already know your answer. I was asking your brother. So, will you tell me where your little coward is?"

"No," Sam growled. "You'll never find her. She's long gone."

"What a shame," Daddy vamp said, coming even closer, underneath one of the many uncovered large square vents. "I suppose, then, that you are no use to me, and I will have to hunt her down myself." He smiled and uncovered his fangs. "Say goodbye, boys." Daddy Vamp strode towards Sam while Dean struggled to get released from the handcuffs in one last attempt to save his brother.

_Squeak_.

The noise came from above the vampire, who looked up, a perplexed look on his face. After a few seconds of silence, he dismissed the sound as a problem with the vents. He turned back to Sam, angry that the noise interrupted his dramatic moment. Then the vent above the vampire came crashing down on top of him.

It hit him squarely on the head, knocking him underneath the large hunk of metal with barely enough time to let out a cry of rage. Sam and Dean stared at the vent blankly for what seemed to stretch for a lifetime before a certain black haired violet eyed girl crawled out, a cut stretching almost all the way across her forehead and blood on her sweatshirt, along with multiple dirt smudges. And yet, she was smiling, her eyes shining like stars as she stood up and dusted herself off. She coughed as a dust cloud went up around her. She was about to go and help Sam and Dean get free when a shadow appeared behind her.

"Calypso!" Sam yelled.

She spun around and, seeing Daddy Vamp's figure, jumped to the side. The vampire who was so put together and perfect before now had hair sticking up in every direction and a dirty face, and his clothes were all torn.

"You BITCH!" he exploded. Calypso shrunk back and squeaked at the pure fury in his voice. "I'll kill you slowly! I will listen to you plead for your life as it fades away!"

The vampire displayed his fangs and lunged at her, and she dived out of the way barely in time. She looked around for anything she could possibly break the Winchester's chains with, but she knew it would take time to pick the locks, which she didn't have right now. Daddy Vamp jumped towards her again, and she scrambled up the bookshelf behind her, maybe not the steadiest ladder, but an affective one.

"You can't run forever!" Daddy Vamp yelled.

"Well, I can try!" she called back. Then she felt the bookshelf tremble under her feet. She looked down to see Daddy Vamp shaking it, getting ready to push it down, taking her down with it. Calypso jumped down before it could fall, landing and rolling onto her feet. She turned back to the bookshelf, but Daddy Vamp wasn't there. Panicking, she turned in circles, trying to find her attacker, which wasn't there. She turned to Sam and Dean, still chained to the wall, and took a few steps forward, unsurely. Nothing happened. More confident, she moved forward faster without stopping. Then, just a few steps before the pair, she felt a force collide into her side, knocking her to the ground, pinned underneath it. She looked up into the eyes of Daddy Vamp, who looked furious. She struggled to get him off her, but he outweighed her by a hundred pounds or so, and she knew it was impossible to get free unless he shifted his weight, even slightly.

"I will tear you apart!" he growled. Then his eyes lit up slightly. "No. No, I have a much better idea than that." Judging by the crazed look in his eyes and the wide smile on his face, she didn't think she would enjoy this idea. "I will turn you into one of my kind."

"No!" Dean and Sam both exclaimed from the wall. Calypso merely squeaked and struggled harder.

"Oh, yes," he said, his smile growing wider by the second. "I will turn you, and then I will keep you forever in here, my little chew toy that won't die until I let it. Yes, I like this plan." Calypso shook, trapped underneath him, her eyes wide. She made a small terrified sound in the back of her throat as he laughed sadistically.

"Please, don't hurt me!" Calypso pleaded. She vaguely heard the sound of chains rattling as Sam and Dean made their last effort to get free. Daddy Vamp growled.

"You girls are all the same," he said angrily. "You're all cowards. Cowards who beg for their life and don't even fight for it!" She whimpered. "You can't face the future with bravery! You are a coward who can't deal with pain or any sort of suffering! I have personally watched you for the last five days, and I know you are a weak coward who gives up much too easily!"

Without another word, he brought his wrist up to his mouth and cut it, not holding her right arm down anymore.

She took her chance.

In a moment, she was on top of him, holding a shiny knife up to his throat.

"Then you obviously don't know me very well," she said angrily, before slicing downward. Daddy Vamp was no more.

She stood up slowly, breathing heavily, cleaning the blood off her blade. She looked at Sam and Dean, both of which looked majorly shocked and gave a small, shy smile.

"That was close," she said, loving the adrenaline rush and the speed of the fight. "Are you two okay?"

"Uh, yeah," Sam said, still processing what just happened. "How did you do that? And where did the knife come from?"

She came over to them.

"He shifted his weight so he could cut his hand," she explained, "So all I needed to do was give a little push, then I was pinning him down." She looked at the Winchester's handcuffs. "And I always keep the knife in my jean pocket. I just pulled it out. I fight better using a knife than a machete."

"How did you get out of the handcuffs?" Dean asked.

She smiled slightly and pulled something out of her hair.

"Bobby pins," she explained. "They work on most locks and handcuffs. That should include these."

"'Should,' that's just wonderful." Dean said sarcastically.

"You should be glad of that 'should,' Dean," Calypso said, beginning to work on Sam's. "This barely worked in your car, and I had to face down a vampire while handcuffed to the steering wheel!"

"Wait, so the vampire did find you?" Dean asked.

"Of course she did!" Calypso said, not taking her eyes off her work. "And it was a surprise to her when I took her head off. And I realized if they sent one after me, you two morons must have been in danger. It took me a few more minutes after that to get the damn cuffs off, then I ran into the building. I saw the head vampire outside a door, and I figured you guys must have been in there, but I wasn't taking him on directly. So I climbed into the vents."

"And then you saw him coming to kill us, and took down the vent," Sam finished for her as she clicked open the lock. He walked forward, away from the chains. "That was smart."

"I figured he wasn't expecting it," she said modestly, moving onto Dean.

"But the whole terrified little girl thing... Was that an act?" Dean asked.

"I needed to get close enough to chop off his head, and playing along seemed like the only way," she said. "He wasn't as scary as he thought he was."

Dean's eyebrows furrowed.

"Did you do the same thing to us when we caught you pickpocketing me?" he wondered.

She paused in her work for a moment, then continued even quicker.

"No," Calypso said, weight on her voice. "That wasn't an act. I thought you were going to give me to the police."

It was silent as she finished setting Dean free.

"That was impressive," Dean said as he took a few steps forward.

"What, the lock picking?" Calypso asked, her hands by her sides. "I've done that since I was a kid."

"No," he said. "The entire thing was impressive. Where did you learn to fight like that?"

She froze and a picture of a blond man with red eyes yelling flashed in her head. She shook her head quickly, regaining her focus.

"I guess you just learn a lot of stuff on the streets," she said shakily, knowing her lie wasn't convincing at all. But the Winchesters didn't question it, knowing there were some things she wouldn't talk about.

They got to motel a little while later, after taking care of the vampire bodies. Calypso stood in the doorway unsurely, her hands covered by the sleeves of her sweatshirt.

Sam looked over at her.

"Well, come on in," he said, motioning with his hands.

"Look, thanks for everything," Calypso said, looking at her feet. "But I don't want to intrude on your lives any more than I already have. I just... Maybe I should get going. I don't want to bother you." She looked up to find both Sam and Dean staring at her.

"But... What are you going to do?" Sam asked. "Starve slowly on the streets again?"

She nodded sadly.

"Probably, yeah," she said sadly. "Don't have much of a choice, do I?"

Sam looked at Dean, who looked just as pained as Sam felt.

"Look, Callie," Dean began. "I can call you Callie, right?" She nodded. "I think... Maybe it would be okay to bring you with us for a while, just until you find a job or some sort of stable source of money."

She looked up at him, her eyes shining and a look of pure amazement on her face.

"Are-are you serious?" she asked softly.

"Completely," Dean answered.

Calypso smiled, the first true smile she had created in years, and laughed, a beautiful, pure, sound, and neither Dean nor Sam had any doubt in their mind that this was the right thing to do.

"Thank you!" Calypso said, clasping her hands together. "Thank you so much!"

Sam and Dean both smiled at her pure happiness as she came into the room.

"Now, have some dinner," Dean said, tossing a bag of trail mix to her.

A few hours later, Calypso was falling asleep on the floor, a strangely comfortable bed for her. Sam and Dean were watching something on TV that she didn't care about, when she remembered what they asked about much earlier.

"Daemgelus," she said sleepily.

"Huh?" asked a tired Dean.

"Daemgelus," she repeated. "It's my-" she yawned. "It's my last name." Then she fell fast asleep.

Sam looked over at Dean, and took out his laptop. He opened the internet and typed in "Daemgelus," in the search bar. To his surprise, hundreds of news articles came up.

"Mother Brutally Murdered in Front of Daughter," Sam read for Dean. They exchanged horrified looks. "It's from 1996."

"Read the article." Dean demanded.

Sam nodded.

"It says that a woman named Annabella Daemgelus was tortured and beaten to death - wait, no, stabbed after being tortured and beaten - in her own home," Sam summarized. "And it was right in front of her daughter-" Sam paled. "Her daughter Calypso."

"Oh my God," Dean said as Sam turned the laptop around to show him a picture of the same woman in the locket with her daughter and husband, a man with blond hair, brown eyes, and a sincere smile. Sam turned the laptop back to him and continued summarizing the article.

"The murder was on Callie's birthday, when she turned six years old... She was being tortured by the murderer before her mother came in from the store to find her... She tried to defend Callie, but the guy overpowered her and took her life before Callie's father, Richard, came home from taking a walk... He took out his gun by the door and scared the guy away, but not soon enough... The murderer was wearing all black, but neither Callie nor her Dad could see under the hood... Callie was put in the hospital for two weeks to recover from knife wounds, head trauma and multiple broken bones... In this article written a month after the murder, it says she didn't talk very much afterwards, and was seeing a therapist to try to recover... Fourth dead family member since she was born." Sam looked up at Dean. "That's... That's enough to scar a kid for their entire life."

Dean blinked a couple times, taking in the new information, then looked confused.

"Is her dad still alive?" he asked.

"As far as I can tell, yes," Sam said, clicking on a few other articles and websites.

"Then why isn't she living with him?" Dean mused. "Maybe she ran away?"

"I don't see anything here that would make her run away," Sam said, still looking around. "She was gifted in school, a grade level above where she was supposed to be and still top of her class. A bunch of dead family members, but the deaths seem innocent enough." Sam clicked around some more. "Most of them died from diseases or accidents, all in different places around the country." He looked at Dean. "I don't think there's anything supernatural there." He closed his laptop. "As far as I can tell, she's just a really unlucky kid."

"Great." Dean said. "Less complicated for us." He turned off the light. "Time to go to bed. I'm exhausted."

Sam agreed and the two of them flopped back onto their pillows and went to sleep without a second thought.

They had no clue what they were getting themselves into.


	2. Chapter 2

Sooner than she thought, Calypso was on another hunt with the Winchesters. She sat in the back of the impala, playing with her phone, while they drove out to Lake Manitoc in Michigan. Dean played classic rock tunes while Sam slept; he had driven all night. She tugged at her new black jacket that they had just bought, since her trusty purple sweatshirt fell apart. She also had new black boots, dark jeans, and a purple tee shirt. She kept her locket on, as always, though. It never left its place around her neck.

Calypso looked out the window at the scenery flashing past, deep in thought. So much was going on. Too much. She remembered Sam and Dean telling her what they found out when they looked up her name.

"Hey, Callie," Sam had said gently while she was helping them pack the morning after the vampires were killed. She had looked up questioningly. "So, Dean and I looked up your last name as a kind of... Background check, I guess." Calypso had stilled, eyes wide, a deer in the headlights. Dean had been standing in the doorway awkwardly. He wasn't sure how she would react. "We found out about your mom, and we are very sorry about-"

"I don't want to talk about it," she had interrupted quickly, turning away from him before he could see how her eyes had teared up from the memory. She had clenched her jaw, fighting back the wave of emotion, and zipped the bag she was done packing shut.

"Callie-"

"I'll meet you by the car," she had interrupted again, walking out of the room without another word and shutting the door behind her. Calypso leaned against it, losing the fight against the pain and sadness. She had shut her eyes completely shut and let out a small sob. That was the only emotion she ever allowed herself to display. It was too painful to do anything more.

But it was so hard to choke down the tide.

"Now, I'm sorry, but why does the wildlife service care about an accidental drowning?" asked gray haired Sheriff Devins. They had arrived at the town earlier, and had just finished asking the brother of the drowned girl questions and found out nothing.

"Are you sure it was accidental?" Sam asked, following him into his office. "Will Carlton saw something grab his sister."

"Like what?" the sheriff replied, annoyed. "You know what, sit, please." He gestured to two chairs that Sam and Dean sat in. Calypso stood behind the two, arms crossed, guarded. "There are no indigenous carnivores in the lake." Calypso rolled her eyes while he wasn't looking. He had no clue what could really be in there. Then she realized that, a couple of weeks ago, she wouldn't have either. "There's nothing even big enough to drag down a person, unless it's the Loch Ness Monster!"

Calypso stifled a smile as Dean replied with, "Yeah, well..."

"Will Carlton was traumatized, and sometimes the mind plays tricks," the Sheriff continued, confident with his argument. He sat back in his chair. "Still, we dragged that entire lake. We even did a sonar sweep, just to be sure, and there was nothing down there."

"That's weird though. That's the third missing body this year," Dean pointed out.

"I know," the Sheriff replied gravely. "These are people from my town. These are people I care about."

"We understand," Calypso said, doing her best to participate a little bit in the conversation. The Sheriff looked at her sadly.

"Anyway, all this, it won't be a problem much longer," he said, leaning back, clearly comfortable with the switching of topics. Calypso couldn't blame him. She was the expert of avoidance.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, saying the very thing Calypso was wondering. The sheriff looked at all three of them, seeming to think Dean was just joking. He was confused as to why they didn't know what was happening.

"Well, the dam, of course."

"Of course," Dean said, trying to cover up his mistake. "The dam." Calypso bit the inside of her cheek, hard, trying not to laugh at Dean's disastrous attempt to fix the conversation. "It's... sprung a leak."

"It's falling apart," he said, suspicious about the trio. "And the Feds won't give us the grant to repair it. So they opened the spill wagon. In six months, there won't be much of a lake. Won't be much of a town, either." He looked at all three of them, one by one. "But as federal wildlife, you already knew that."

"Of course we did, sir." Calypso said.

As she was about to apologize for her "partner's" stupidity, there was a quiet knock at the door. Everyone turned around to see a young woman with wavy dark hair standing in the door way.

"Sorry, am I interrupting?" she asked sweetly. "I can come back later."

"Agents, this is my daughter." the Sheriff introduced as they all stood up. Dean pushed Calypso out of the way and shook the woman's hand. Calypso rolled her eyes, annoyed. Dean never lost a chance to flirt with women.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Dean." he said, trying to be charming.

"Andrea Barr," she said with a smile. Her eyes brightened up a bit when she smiled, Calypso noticed. "Hi,"

"They're from the wildlife service." the Sheriff said. "About the lake." Andrea's smile faded.

"Oh," she said softly.

Something moved by her waist. Calypso eyes moved downward to see a small boy with long brown hair peek around Andrea into the room. A smile spread across her face. She loved children.

"Well, hello there!" Calypso said sweetly, smiling and bending down to about the boy's height. "What's your name?"

The boy turned and walked out of the room without a single word, or even an action to show he'd heard her. Calypso's smile faltered. Andrea seemed about to say something, then turned and followed the boy. It became very quiet.

"His name is Lucas," the Sheriff said, obvious weight on his voice. Calypso looked out the door to see Andrea offer the boy a crayon, which he grabbed without a word.

"Is he alright?" she asked gently, concerned about the boy.

"My grandson's been through a lot," he answered, then sighed. "We all have." He seemed to shake off what he was thinking about and stood up, heading to the door. "Well, if there's anything else I can help you with, please, let me know."

Calypso nodded in acknowledgement and walked out of the door, only to hear Dean say, "You know, now that you've mentioned it, could you point us to a reasonably priced motel?"

She rolled her eyes, knowing exactly what he was trying to do. It seemed Andrea did, too.

"Lake Front Motel," she said, looking up and smiling. "Go around the corner, it's two blocks out."

Dean pretended to look perplexed.

"Two..." he said confusedly. "Would you mind showing us?"

Andrea laughed and said, "You want me to walk you two blocks?"

"Not if it's any trouble," Dean replied.

She smiled.

"I'm headed that way anyway," she said, then turned to her dad. "I'll be back to pick up Lucas at three." She bent down to her son. "We'll go to the park, okay sweetie?"

The boy didn't respond, and she left without a reply. Calypso smiled politely at the sheriff before she followed.

"So, cute kid," Dean told Andrea as they walked to the motel. She smiled.

"Thanks," she said. They crossed the street.

"Kids are the best, huh?" Dean said. Sam and Calypso looked at him strangely, Calypso's eyebrows raised so high they were almost hidden in her hair. Andrea seemed to be hiding a smile.

"There it is," she said, turning to Dean. "Like I said," she told him, "Two blocks."

Sam thanked her and she smiled.

"Must be hard with your sense of direction," she said to Dean, who smiled and shrugged. "Not even able to find your way to a decent pickup line?" She began to cross the street.

Dean's smile fell away and a look of confusion and surprise appeared on his face. Calypso laughed loudly at Dean's bewildered expression.

"Enjoy your stay!" Andrea called back to them as she made her way across the street.

"Kids are the best?" Sam asked, amused. "You don't even like kids."

"I love kids!" Dean protested. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Name three children that you even know," he said. Dean opened his mouth. "And don't say Callie!" His mouth shut again.

Calypso laughed.

"I'm a teenager," she told him, smiling. "I don't count."

Dean cleared his throat, and opened his mouth, ready to say something, but he was silent. He shuffled a little bit, but couldn't seem think of anything.

"See?" Calypso said, showing that Sam proved his point.

"Oh, as if you know any kids!" Dean shot back.

Calypso smiled, ready to prove him wrong.

"Johnny Sebastian, Chloe Azerzson, Liam Pebdid, Bridgett Smith, Abby Deidric, Rachel Seir, Danielle Bitsor." she said without taking a breath. "Do I need to say any more?" Dean and Sam looked at her strangely. She smiled slightly. "I worked at a daycare since I was in fifth grade. Trust me, I like kids." With that she walked into the motel, leaving the boys with new information about the mysterious girl.

"Whatcha got?" Calypso asked Sam later, as he looked up information on the drowning.

"Well, there's the three drowning victims this year," Sam said, clicking around.

"Anything before that?" Dean asked as he unpacked a bit.

"Yeah, six more, spread out over the past thirty five years," Sam replied. "Those bodies were never recovered either." He sighed. "If there is something out there, it's picking up its pace."

"So, a lake monster on a binge?" Dean asked.

"This whole lake monster theory, it just bugs me." Sam said, looking at his laptop.

"Why?" Calypso asked, both her and Dean coming behind Sam and his computer.

"Loch Ness, Lake Champlain, there are literally hundreds of eyewitness accounts, but here, there's almost nothing." Sam pointed out. "Whatever's out there, nobody's living to tell about it."

Dean seemed to notice something.

"Wait, Barr," he said, pointing to an article on the laptop screen. "Christopher

Barr, where have I heard that name before?"

"Andrea and Lucas," Calypso said absentmindedly, turning to Dean. "Why?"

"He was the victim in May," Sam explained, clicking on a link. "Oh." he said, surprised. "Christopher Barr was Andrea's husband, Lucas's father." Calypso's eyebrows went up. "Apparently, he took Lucas out swimming, Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Chris drowned. Two hours before the kid got rescued." He clicked on a picture of Lucas wrapped in a towel, probably when he just got out of the lake. "Maybe we have an eyewitness after all."

It was quiet.

"No wonder Lucas was so scared," Calypso said sympathetically. "Watching a parent die..." She trailed off and grabbed her left wrist, pressing down hard. "That's not something you get over. Ever." She looked up at Sam and Dean. "We need to go find him."

They decided to go to the park Andrea said she and Lucas would visit after she dropped them off at the motel. Calypso spotted her on a bench alone, watching her son sit at a table, coloring.

"Can we join you?" Sam asked Andrea. She smiled a little bit.

"I'm here with my son," she replied, talking directly to Dean. Calypso held back a smile.

"Do you mind if I say hi?" Calypso asked her. "It's been a while since I've been around kids. They're so cute, aren't they?"

"They sure are," Andrea agreed with a smile. She studied Calypso for a moment, wondering if she should let her near her son. But something about Calypso made her seem so young and innocent. Andrea doubted Calypso would ever want to hurt Lucas. "I guess you can go say hi, sure," she said. Calypso smiled politely and walked towards the child.

"I can go with her," Dean said, not even waiting for a reply, just following the girl.

The two made it to the table to see Lucas scribbling quickly on a sheet of paper with a purple crayon. Calypso loved purple. It was the color of her eyes, which made her different, sometimes a good thing, and sometimes bad. Plus, it was associated with magic and special powers, like in her favorite book series, Harry Potter. And it was a mixture of the two colors she described her parents with, red and blue.

"How's it going?" Dean asked Lucas. There was no response. He kneeled down and Calypso stood behind him. "Ah, I used to love these things." Dean picked up a toy soldier and made shooting noises. Lucas did not respond.

Calypso looked at the quiet boy and her heart shattered into pieces. Seeing any child go through what she had to when she was six made her want to cry. She knew how it felt. She knew how long it would take to get over.

"So crayons are more your thing?" Dean said while Calypso stood silently, observing. "That's cool. Chicks dig artists."

"These are really good," Calypso commented, looking through a couple things he drew, including a picture of a red bicycle. "Can we sit and draw with you for a bit?" No response. Calypso looked at Dean sadly and shrugged. She took a crayon and a blank sheet of paper and decided to attempt to draw a butterfly. But she was never good at art, and it ended up looking like a pathetic blob. She looked at it, annoyed, wishing she was better at drawing. Seems like it would be a useful skill, or a good pastime if nothing else.

"You know," Dean said, drawing something Calypso couldn't see, "I'm thinking you can hear us, you just don't want to talk." Lucas didn't look up. "I don't know exactly what happened to your dad, but I know it was something real bad. I think I know how it feels. When I was younger, I saw something." He paused and Calypso realized he must be talking about his mother. She didn't know much about what happened to her, and she didn't want to invade Sam and Dean's privacy by asking. Instead she just absorbed the details. All she knew was that their mother was killed by some supernatural creature in Sam's nursery.

"Anyway," Dean continued, getting a grip on his emotions, "Well, maybe you don't think anyone will listen to you or, uh... Believe you. I want you to know that we will." Calypso smiled reassuringly. "You don't even have to say anything. You could draw me a picture about what you saw on that day, with your dad, in the lake." Lucas ignored him and continued to color, refusing to look up. "Okay, no problem. This is for you." Dean held out a picture to Lucas of four stick figures, hastily drawn. "This is my family. That's my dad," he said, pointing to one of the stick figures. "That's my mom, that's my geek brother, and that's me," he said, pointing to each stick figure in turn.

Lucas didn't respond.

"Alright, so I'm a sucky artist." He got up slowly, leaving his picture behind. "I'll see you around, Lucas."

Dean turned and began to walk back to Andrea and Sam. Calypso took a few steps after him, then felt a small hand wrap around her slim wrist. She turned around to Lucas again, who had stopped working and tugged at her arm, still looking down. Calypso's eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"Callie?" she heard Dean call. She turned to face him and motioned that she needed a second. Dean nodded, looking concerned.

"What is it?" Calypso asked, turning back to Lucas and crouching down next to him.

The boy searched through his pile of drawings, papers flying everywhere, until he seemed to find the one he was searching for and pulled it out. Calypso's eyes widened in surprise. At first she thought the arm was the only thing in the picture. Then she noticed the jagged red lines cutting across it, and the knife in the background. Her knife, her arm. She realized. Her cuts. She looked back up at Lucas.

"How did you know?" she whispered. Lucas didn't reply. "Never mind, that's not important." She took the drawing and stared at it sadly. "What's important is that you understand that these aren't something I'm proud of." She studied the small boy carefully. "My mother died when I was just a year or two older than you are now. And I felt responsible for it. So I started to harm myself." She bit her lip, unsure how to continue. "At first it felt good, something to keep my attention off of the gaping hole in my heart." Her eyes threatened to tear up, and she blinked away the moisture determinedly. "Then I began to see myself as damaged. What kind of sick person cuts her own wrist, right? It's not what my mother would have wanted." Calypso hugged her arms against her stomach. "I tried to stop. I really did. But you don't understand how hard-" Her voice cracked and she tried to clear her throat. "I can't stop. Not when I need it. I know it's bad, but I can't make myself put the blade down." She looked up at Sam, Dean, and Andrea, who were all staring at her. "You can't tell anyone, okay?" Lucas put down his crayon and looked up into her eyes. He nodded. Calypso smiled. "Thank you. And please," she begged, placing her hand on his arm. "Don't try this. Don't even think about it."

She crumpled up the picture and shoved it in her pocket. All she could think about was the last time she had brought the knife to her wrist. It had been immediately after Sam and Dean had asked her about her Mom. She knew she was to blame for her death. She was reminded almost daily. She was to blame for every single thing that went wrong, wasn't she? Every person near her who got hurt, every single problem, she was the start of it. And so she deserved all the pain she inflicted on herself. She deserved every awful thing that had ever happened to her.

That's why she truly hated herself.

Calypso walked back to Sam, Dean, and Andrea as fast as she could after she talked to Lucas.

"What happened?" Sam asked curiously.

"Nothing important," she said. "He showed me a picture." She did her best not to lie. She had never liked lying. "He's good at drawing."

Andrea looked over at Lucas sadly.

"That's all he's been doing since his dad's... Accident," she said. "He just sits there, drawing those pictures..." They all looked at Lucas, who had walked up to Calypso. "Hey sweetie."

His hand stretched out towards Calypso, his head still turned towards the ground. She noticed there was a piece of paper in his little fist, and reached out to take it, surprised. When she looked at it, she saw a drawing of a familiar looking red roofed house, with green trim. She pursed her lips, trying to remember where she had seen it before.

"Thank you," she said sweetly, trying to be polite. "It's wonderful."

He walked away without acknowledging her. She looked up at Dean, then Sam, who both shrugged.

Calypso watched sadly as Lucas walked back to his table, wishing desperately that she could fix him.

Maybe by killing this monster, she could.

The next day, Will Carlton was dead. He had drowned in his own sink, ruling out the whole lake monster theory.

Sam, Dean, and Calypso went to ask his dad, Bill Carlton, a few questions, but the man refused to answer. He had a right to, of course, since both of his children had died in a short period of time, but it set them back a little bit, especially since he seemed to be hiding something. Something seemed suspicious to Calypso. She'd had a cold feeling ever since she passed the border into town, but she couldn't figure out why.

As they walked back to the impala, Calypso noticed the house.

"Wait," she said. She took out Lucas's drawing and held it up next to the house. Her eyebrows raised up. "They match perfectly," she told Sam and Dean. She looked up at them. "I don't think Bill is the only one who knows something."

They quickly drove to Lucas's house and, even though it took some convincing, Andrea let them in. She led them to Lucas's room, where Lucas was still drawing pictures, surrounded by his green toy army men. Calypso walked in cautiously.

"Hi, Lucas," she said softly, kneeling down next to him. "You remember me, right?" No response. She looked down at his drawings and saw multiple pictures of a bright red bicycle, making eyebrows furrow. "Thank you for the drawing you gave me," she continued, even though it seemed like Lucas wasn't hearing her. "It was really helpful, but I need your help again." She looked down and noticed that Lucas was drawing a picture of a man in a lake. She pursed her lips and looked back up. "So," she continued, pulling out the drawing of the Carlton house, "How did you know to draw this picture? Did you know something would happen there?" He didn't respond. "Could you nod or shake your head?" she suggested. He didn't move. Calypso tilted her head slightly, trying to understand the boy's emotions. "You're scared, aren't you," she said, finally understanding. "It's okay to be scared. I was scared, too, when my mom was killed. And just like you, I didn't talk for a while afterwards." She paused, unsure how to continue, then got back on track. "I blamed myself for what happened, and I think you do, too." She looked at Lucas. "But it wasn't your fault. Maybe it wasn't my fault either. You know, I try to stay away from the memories or anything that reminds me of what happened, but I don't think that's what my mom would've wanted." She smiled, remembering. "She would always tell me to be brave, to face my fears. I try to, every single day. And you know what? I think that's what your dad wants you to do. Be brave."

Lucas dropped his crayon and slowly looked up at her. He looked for a long time, and Calypso looked back, trying to carefully hide her emotions. Finally, Lucas slowly slid out a picture from his pile, and put it in front of Calypso. She looked down at it and saw that it was a yellow two story house with a little boy in a baseball cap with a red bike standing in front of it. And what seemed to be across the street was a small white church.

"Thank you," Calypso said, taking the picture and getting up. "You've been a lot of help."

She walked out of the room, towards Sam, Dean, and Andrea.

"How did you do that?" Andrea asked, leading the group back to the door. "He never responds to anyone. Not even me."

"I don't know," Calypso told her honestly. "All I did was try to relate to his situation."

Andrea studied her closely.

"I'm sorry about your mother," Andrea said. "It must have been hard to lose her at such a young age."

"It was tough, but I had to move on very quickly," she told her, trying to get off of the subject. "I just had to focus on other things." She looked at Dean, who nodded. "I think we have to go," she said. "We need to check out this new lead."

Andrea nodded.

"Of course," she said. "If you need anything else, we're right here."

Calypso smiled.

"Thank you," she said, walking out the door.

Then they were driving. Calypso looked out the left backseat window, looking up at the clouds. Her mom used to say that whenever she felt sad, she should look up at the sky and find faces in the clouds to be her friends. Even though it seemed childish, Calypso did it often.

"Hey, Callie," Dean said from the driver's seat. "Did you tell Lucas the truth about... You know, how you felt when your mom died?"

"Doesn't matter," she replied quickly.

"You know you can't run from this forever," Sam said.

"I've been successful for nine years, so far," she told him. "I think I'm good." She changed topics. "So, how come Lucas draws this stuff? Andrea said he never drew like that before his dad died, right?"

Calypso saw Sam and Dean exchange a glance and clenched her jaw. She always had to take care of things on her own, and wasn't good at trusting people, especially men. This was just another thing she had to deal with alone. No matter how nice they seemed, she didn't trust them enough to tell them anything about her that mattered. They were going to hurt her eventually. Everyone always did.

"Well, there are cases," Sam said, letting her change the course of the conversation without a fight. "Going through a traumatic experience could make some people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies-"

Calypso listened closely from the backseat. Traumatic experiences making people have psychic powers of some sort? Maybe that's why she had the weird dream-like visions about the Winchesters before she even met them. Either that or she was just a freak like everyone told her.

"But whatever's out there, what if Lucas tapped into it somehow?" Dean interrupted. Sam made an unhappy noise, making it clear that he didn't think the kid was a lead. "It's only a matter of time before somebody else drowns so if you have any other ideas, please."

Sam raised his hands up in defeat.

"Alright," he said. "We've got another house to find."

"But the only problem is there are more than a thousand yellow two stories in this county alone," Dean pointed out.

"Look at the white church, moron," Calypso pointed out.

"Yeah, I bet there are less than a thousand of those around here," Sam said, continuing her suggestion.

"Oh, college boy thinks he's so smart!" Dean teased.

Calypso smiled a small smile and Sam gave a quiet laugh.

And they drove off to find the house.

When they checked the house in the picture, they found an old woman living there. They asked about a boy with a baseball cap and a red bicycle and the woman told them that he used to live in the house, then didn't come home one day after school. She said that the pain of losing her only child, Peter, was, "worse than dying."

That stuck in Calypso's head. Bill Carlton said the exact same thing when she, Sam, and Dean went to pay him a visit after Will had drowned in the sink. And everything came together when Sam pointed out the green army men laying around and Dean found a picture of Peter and Bill Carlton. They were sure that Peter's ghost was haunting the lake, probably because Bill killed him. Everyone close to Bill died in that lake, didn't they?

So, naturally, they went to pay Bill Carlton another visit.

They pulled up next to the house and Calypso was the first to step out of the car. She heard an odd sort of buzzing coming from near the lake as Sam yelled for Bill to come out and see them. What was that buzzing? A motor maybe?

Then it clicked.

"Damn it!" Calypso yelled, running towards the lake, where she saw Bill Carlton driving his boat out into the middle of the lake. She heard Sam and Dean following her, but she knew they couldn't catch up to her. She was small and skinny. They were much taller and more sturdily built than she was, an advantage in combat, but not so much in speed.

She got to the dock quickly, but Bill was already pretty far out in the lake.

"Mr. Carlton!" she yelled, trying to get his attention. Sam and Dean joined her after a few seconds and joined in her call. "MR. CARLTON!"

The man turned around to look at her and she frantically waved her arms, motioning for him to come back in, but he turned back around and continued out into the lake.

Calypso could feel it a moment before it happened. There was a sudden feeling of anger all around her, a sudden chill that made her sense its presence.

She could have sworn she heard a raspy voice whisper, "Come play with me."

Then Bill Carlton's boat flew upward, as if it was rammed into from underneath, and the man went flying into the air, then down into the lake.

He didn't resurface.

They found themselves in the police department again, not twenty minutes after the incident. The sheriff led them in, and Calypso saw Andrea and a nervous looking Lucas sitting in a waiting area.

"Sam, Dean, Calypso, what are you doing here?" she asked, straightening up from the position she was in while tending her child.

"So now you're on a first name basis?" the sheriff asked, not sounding too happy. "What are you doing here?"

"I brought you dinner," she explained.

"I'm sorry sweetheart," he said, shrugging off his jacket. "I don't really have the time."

Andrea didn't respond for a moment, looking at Sam, Dean, and Calypso in turn.

"I heard about Bill Carlton," she said softly. "Is it true? Is something going on with the lake?"

"Right now we don't know what the truth is," the sheriff answered. Calypso looked down at Lucas, who was rocking back and forth in his chair. Why was he acting like that? "I think it might be better if you and Lucas went on home."

Lucas suddenly looked up, his eyes wide and terrified. Then he leapt up from his seat and began to tug crazily on Calypso's arm, making odd whimpering noises.

"Lucas?" Calypso asked, gravely. "Lucas, what's wrong?" Lucas continued to tug, but instead of whimpering, the boy was crying. "Lucas, it's okay," she said as Andrea tried to tug the boy away from her. "Lucas, I promise it's going to be okay." Andrea succeeded in getting Lucas away from Calypso. "I promise."

Andrea led the boy out the door, but he never broke eye contact with Calypso until he was gone. What would make him act like that?

She felt a light tap on her shoulder and she jumped, turning around. Dean motioned towards the sheriff's office with his head, and she realized that Sam and the sheriff had gone in.

"Okay, just so I'm clear, you see... Something, attack Bill's boat, sending Bill, who is a very strong swimmer, by the way, into the drink, and you never see him again." Sheriff Devins said, not believing a word they had just said.

"Yes, that sums it up, I think," Calypso said.

"And you expect me to believe this, even though I've already sonar swept the entire lake, and what you're describing is impossible, and you're not really wildlife service." Calypso turned to Dean, shocked. Judging by the look on his face, he felt the same. "That's right, I checked. Department's never heard of you three."

"You see, and we can explain that-" Dean began, trying to make up some excuse.

"Enough," Sheriff Devins interrupted. "Please. The only reason you're breathing free air is one of Bill's neighbors saw him driving out that boat just before you did." He looked between them. "So, we have a couple of options here. I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you material witnesses for Bill Carlton's disappearance," Calypso's heart seemed to jump into her throat. "Or we chalk this all up to a bad day. You get into your car, you put this town in your rear view mirror, and you don't ever darken my doorstep again!"

Anger clouded Calypso's judgment.

"And what, leave other people to die?" she yelled, jumping up. "We know there is something in that lake! And maybe if you cared enough to look right in front of you, you'd know it, too!"

The man's eyes seemed to darken.

"How dare you-" he began, leaning threateningly over the table while Calypso stared rebelliously at him. She didn't usually yell, but she could feel that Peter's ghost wasn't done. She didn't know why, since Bill Carlton was dead, but she could just feel it. How that was possible, she had no clue.

"Door number two sounds good," Sam interrupted, standing in front of her, keeping her from saying anything else.

"That's the one I'd pick," Sheriff Devins said. "Now get out! And contain that little girl!"

"I am not-" Calypso began angrily, before Dean grabbed her by the back of her jacket and pushed her out the door.

"Thank you, sir," Sam said, the last one to leave. The sheriff didn't say anything, just stared after him and watched the door close.

"This is SO unfair!" Calypso complained from the back of the impala for the fifteenth time. "Other people are going to die, I can feel it, and we're just leaving them?"

They ignored her, like they did after the first time. Calypso huffed and leaned back so she was firmly pressed against the cushioned seat.

They drove up to a point where the road went two ways.

"Green," Sam said.

"What?" Dean asked, jerked out of his thoughts.

"The light's green," Sam said.

Dean drove the car forward slightly, then to the right.

"Uh, interstate's the other way," Sam pointed out.

"I know," Dean replied.

And Calypso smiled.

"But Dean, this job, I think it's over," Sam protested later.

"I'm not so sure." Dean replied.

"If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirit got its revenge, case closed! The spirit should be at rest!"

"It's not," Calypso said from the backseat. "I don't know how to explain it, but I know it's still there. Not to mention the way Lucas acted. Peter isn't gone!"

Dean looked at Sam pointedly.

"See?" he said. "What if we leave this town and Peter's not done. We could have missed something. More people could get hurt."

"But why would you think that?" Sam asked Dean.

"Because Lucas acted really scared," Dean replied. "And, call me crazy, but I trust Callie's gut feeling."

"Thank you!" Calypso said, glad someone was finally listening.

"I'm not leaving this town until I know the kid is safe." Dean told Sam.

"Who are you?" Sam asked jokingly. "And what have you done with my brother?"

Dean looked over at Sam.

"Shut up."

They got to Andrea's house as fast as possible and Calypso knocked on the door.

Lucas opened the door not even a second later, terrified and hyperventilating. His scared eyes stared into hers as he cried, and she stepped into the house.

"Lucas?" Calypso asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Lucas-"

He ran off and she didn't waste a second in following him.

And she felt it. She felt the anger, the cold pressing in on her from all sides, and the terrifying words repeated over and over again.

"Come play with me," it hissed.

Then she noticed the murky water spilling out from underneath the bathroom door and down the stairs. Lucas ran up to the door and pounded on it, not giving up on saving his mother. She lunged forward and pulled Lucas back as Dean kicked the door open and he and Sam went inside.

"Sh... Sh..." she said gently, making sure Lucas couldn't see Sam and Dean struggling to pull Andrea out of the bathtub. "It's going to be okay. I promise it's going to be okay. I've got you."

Lucas wrapped his small arms around her and buried his face into her chest, shaking and whimpering.

Calypso watched nervously as Sam and Dean continued to try to free Andrea from the ghost's grasp. With one final tug from Sam, the woman was pulled from the spirit's clutches and fell onto the floor, terrified, but alive.

"It's okay," Calypso told Lucas quietly, looking down at the boy's tearstained face. "I promised it would be okay, didn't I?"

By the next morning, Sam and Dean were finished explaining everything to Andrea. Calypso kept Lucas busy by coloring with him, but he was so scared about what happened that he spent most of the time being comforted by her.

Then Dean made a discovery that finally put the situation together. The sheriff was also involved with Peter's death. Dean found a photo of him, at the age of twelve, standing next to Peter, and everything seemed to make much more sense than before.

Calypso looked up from the table and saw Lucas staring out the window, not where she had left him.

"Lucas?" she asked. "What is it?"

He didn't respond, just walked out the door into the yard. Calypso quickly got up and followed him, the others right behind her. They followed him up a small hill, until he stopped and stood on a very green patch of ground. She shared a glance with Dean, both figuring out what this probably meant. Peter's body was most likely buried right under Lucas's feet.

"You and Lucas get back to the house and stay there, okay?" Dean told Andrea. "Callie will stay with you and protect you, if needed."

"But Dean-" Calypso protested.

"I don't care how much you've already seen and done, Callie," Dean told her. "You aren't ready for this. Now get back to the house."

She knew she was never going to win this battle, so she gave up and led Andrea and Lucas back to the house without a fight, her mouth set in a firm line.

Once she was inside, she watched from the window as Sam and Dean dug up the area. They shoved their shovels firmly into the ground and pulled up sharply too many times to count, but then they seemed to hit something. Calypso and Andrea watched, holding their breath as the pair continued with their hands, seeming like they were trying to pull something out of the ground that was pretty stuck in there. Finally, whatever it was broke free. Calypso gasped. The Winchesters were holding up an old rusty red bike, just like the one in Lucas's drawings.

"Oh my god," she heard Andrea whisper next to her.

Then Calypso saw movement and watched as the sheriff appeared out of the bushes and pointed a gun at the pair.

She and Andrea froze.

"Andrea, you have to go out there and confront your dad," Calypso said, thinking quickly. She turned to Andrea. "And make sure he doesn't shoot Sam and Dean."

"Just me?" she asked nervously, looking at Calypso, wanting her support. They both looked back out the window, to make sure Sam and Dean were still okay.

"I'm sorry, but yeah, just you," Calypso explained. "The last time I saw him, I kinda yelled at him. He was pretty angry after that." She turned to Andrea who stared back nervously. "If I go out there, it's even more likely that he will pull the trigger, but he won't if you do. You're his daughter, after all."

Andrea took a moment before she nodded and walked out the door. Calypso watched from the window as the woman ran up the hill and spoke to her father, seeming desperate. But the man didn't put his gun down.

Then Calypso realized Lucas wasn't by her side anymore.

"Damn it," she whispered. "Lucas!" she yelled. There was no response. She ran to the bathroom, but he wasn't there. She checked every other room in the house in a frenzy, but there was no trace of him.

Then she stopped. The hair on the back of her neck went up, and she could feel the anger and desperation of Peter Sweeney.

_"Come play with me."_

"No," she whispered, horrified. Calypso ran towards, then out, the other door, closest to the lake. She scrambled up the steeper hill, tripping over rocks and twigs, then saw Lucas bent over on the dock. She ran even faster, trying to get there in time. "Lucas, no!" she screamed, just a few feet in front of him. He turned to her, and she felt the peak of the ghost's anger. She lunged forward, grabbing onto Lucas's free arm just as the ghost grabbed onto the other one, closer to the water, and pulled them both forward.

Her other arm waved around frantically, trying to find something to hold onto before she and Lucas were dragged down, and by some miracle, her fingernails dug into the wooden dock. Shards of wood punctured her hand, but she didn't care. She needed to keep Lucas above the surface.

"Sam! Dean!" she screamed, panicking. She wasn't going to let Lucas drown.

"We're coming, Callie, hold on!" she heard Dean yell back.

Even as he said that, she knew he was never going to make it in time. Her fingernails were rapidly sliding down the dock, getting closer and closer to the edge. She desperately tried to get a better grip, but nothing was working.

"Hold your breath!" she ordered Lucas. Then, with one last scream, her fingernails slipped and she plunged into the murky black water.

Calypso's first thought was to wrap herself around Lucas. The ghost didn't want her, and if she let go of Lucas, she would lose him. So she wrapped both of her arms tightly around the little boy. She could feel him shaking and struggling, but there was nothing she could say now. She squinted through the blackness and tried to make out a shape, any shape, but couldn't see anything. She attempted to swim upward, but then a slimy hand wrapped around her ankle, dragging her down. She tried to scream, but there were only bubbles. Her legs kicked out, trying to release themselves from the monster that was taking her into the darkness. She looked up while struggling and saw two dark shapes dive into the water. Sam and Dean? It didn't matter. They wouldn't be able to see her or Lucas through the black water. They couldn't help her.

Her ankle was suddenly released, but at the exact same moment she felt a sharp tug on her hair. Her eyes widened and she tried to swing around and hit him, but punches underwater don't work very well. You can only flail around and hope for the best. Then she saw the face of the ghost, just barely. Green, decaying, and gross, but with a sick smile on its face. She held Lucas even closer, but by this point, he had stopped moving.

"Come play with me," the corpse hissed. Calypso would have screamed if she had any air left. Black spots were beginning to take over her sight. This was it. This was the end.

Then she heard the most peculiar thing.

"Peter, if you can hear me, please, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! Lucas is-he's just a little boy!" Calypso froze. That voice was Jake Devin's. Peter knew it, too. His corpse seemed to smile even wider, then it disappeared. But she could still hear Jake's voice. "Please, take me! Just let it be over!" Then the voice was gone. And so was Peter.

Calypso knew she didn't have enough air left to bring Lucas back to the surface. She didn't even have enough air to get herself back to the surface. But she knew what she did have enough air for.

She didn't waste any time. Calypso shoved Lucas upward towards the surface, and sending herself down towards the bottom. Hopefully Sam or Dean would find him. But she couldn't see who. Her eyes closed against her will. If she forgot about the burning sensation in her lungs, it would feel almost peaceful. The coolness of the water around her was comforting, the feeling of it against her skin was soft like silk. It wasn't a bad way to spend her last breaths. She felt the arms of unconsciousness wrap around her, and pull her down. She was too weak to struggle.

Then she broke the surface.

Her eyes opened slowly as she felt herself being dragged forward, her sight blurry. She felt herself get put down on solid ground and blinked a few times to clear her eyes. She saw Dean sitting next to her, breathing heavily. He must have pulled her out of the water. Then there was Sam, Andrea, and Lucas, all clustered around her. Lucas seemed in shock, but didn't look hurt.

"Are you okay?" Calypso asked him in a raspy voice. It was the only question on her mind. He nodded his head up and down, then ran towards her and wrapped his arms around her neck. Calypso put her arms around the little boy, too. "It's okay," she whispered. "Everything's okay now. Everything's okay."

The next day, the Winchesters and Calypso prepared to leave. Everything was packed up and in the car and they were ready to leave, but they were interrupted.

"Sam, Dean, Callie!" Andrea called. Calypso spun around with a smile.

"Hey!" Dean called back, walking forward with Sam and Calypso.

"We're glad we caught you." Andrea said. "We just... We made you lunch for the road." She smiled. "Lucas insisted on making the sandwiches himself."

Calypso smiled down at the little boy.

"Can I give it to them now?" he asked. Calypso almost cried with happiness. Lucas was talking again, now that the spirit was gone.

"Of course, sweetie," Andrea said.

"Come on, let's put them in the car," Calypso told Lucas. She led him over to the impala while he smiled happily. "They look delicious!" she commented.

"Callie?" Lucas asked seriously. She looked back at him after loading the food into the car.

"Yeah?" she replied.

"Please don't hurt yourself anymore," he pleaded. "I don't like it. You shouldn't do it. Please stop."

Calypso smiled sadly.

"You know what?" she told him. "I think I might stop. Or I'll do my best to. Is that all right?" she asked.

He nodded, then lunged forward to give Calypso a hug, which she returned with just as much enthusiasm, if not more.

"Watch out for your mom, okay?" she said as everyone else wandered over.

"Okay, Callie," Lucas replied.

As Calypso made her way to her seat on the left side in the back, she saw Andrea giving Dean a kiss. She smiled at how speechless he was afterwards, before he ordered Sam to get in the car before they ran out of daylight.

"Bye Andrea!" Calypso called, before climbing into the car. "Bye Lucas!"

Then the door shut and they were off.

"You know, I've thought a lot about what you two said," Calypso told Sam and Dean ten minutes later. "About me not being able to run from what happened to my mom forever, and I think you're right. But I can't tell you about it now." She looked out the window. "What happened is more personal than it seems. I'll tell you when I'm ready, but I'm not yet." She paused. "I'm sorry."

Sam and Dean looked at each other and shrugged. They couldn't make her tell them. Waiting won't kill them.

But it nearly does.


	3. Chapter 3

"Don't worry, this won't hurt a bit," the man with red eyes said, coming forward with a knife in his hand.

Calypso, already a pathetic broken red heap on the floor, whimpered. She didn't have the strength to cry out anymore. She stared as the man walked towards her, terrified to the point where she was frozen. She had already tried to run. That had just made the man even madder.

She squeezed her eyes completely shut, shielding her already bleeding face with her small arms, expecting another stab of the knife at any second. Her salty tears mixed with the metallic taste of her blood as she heard his footsteps creaking towards her. He was almost there, she heard the whistle of the knife in the air, then-

"Callie, wake up!"

She jerked out of the nightmare to find herself in the safety of the impala, driving somewhere on the way to Toledo, Ohio, the set of their next hunt. She sat back in her seat and sighed, rubbing her eyes. This nightmare was one of the many that always haunted her head when she went to sleep, which is why she tried to stay awake as much as possible.

"Sorry," she said, yawning. "I dozed off,"

"Yeah, I can tell," Dean said, looking at her through the mirror. "Got some nice beauty sleep though. I mean, Sam even woke up before you. Oh yeah, and we're here."

She looked out the window to see them pulling into the parking lot of the morgue where the body of the man they were investigating was.

She smiled and unbuckled.

"Great," she said. The one good thing about her nightmares was that she never moved or made any noise during them. The only way someone could know that she had a nightmare was if she told them. And that never happened. "Let's go."

The plan of talking with the doctor was scrapped as soon as they walked in. The doctor wasn't even there. Only the morgue technician was there, alone at his desk.

"Hey," the guy said.

"Hey," Dean repeated back to the bald short guy.

"Can I help you?" the morgue technician asked.

"Yeah, we're the uh... Med students." Dean said, coming up with Plan B on the spot. Like that was going to work.

"Sorry?"

"Dr. Feiklowicz didn't tell you?" Calypso said, using the name she saw labeling the empty desk when they walked in. "We called yesterday. He's supposed to show us the Shoemaker corpse for our paper." He didn't look convinced. "We're from Ohio State," She added quickly, to sound official.

"Well, I'm sorry, he's at lunch," he said.

"That's weird," Calypso said, lying through her teeth. "He told me he'd be here right now. It's a tight schedule up on campus and-oh, never mind. You wouldn't mind showing the corpse to us do you?"

"Sorry I can't," the guy insisted.

Calypso gritted her teeth. She didn't want it to come to this. She forced herself to put on a seductive smile.

"Are you sure?" Callie asked, leaning over the table a little bit, so the guy could see down her already low shirt. "Just a little... Peek?"

His eyes widened ever so slightly and he stood up too quickly, hitting his knee on his desk.

"S-sure thing. Follow me," he stuttered, stumbling away.

Calypso smiled triumphantly, but before she could follow, Sam pulled her back to him and Dean.

"How-how did you do that?" Dean asked, completely surprised.

"You've never seen that?" Calypso asked. "Please, I'm sure that a girl has done that to you before. It's like bribing, but without the money. Of course, no girl actually wants to." She frowned thoughtfully. "I don't, at least." She followed the morgue technician.

"What the-" Dean began, shocked that seemingly innocent Calypso would pull a stunt like that. Call him crazy, but he felt almost protective over the girl. And that means he shouldn't let her do... Whatever that was.

"Let's just... Go?" Sam said confusedly, beginning to slowly follow Calypso.

"Yeah," Dean said quickly. "Yeah, let's just go."

They didn't find out too much from the body except the guy's eyes were gone and there was a lot of blood in his skull. So the three decided to investigate further. They went to the funeral at his house to talk to the girl who found her Dad's body and to investigate the bathroom he died in.

The older daughter, Donna, didn't help them at all, but her younger sister did. She claimed that she had accidentally caused her father's death by summoning Bloody Mary, who scratched his eyes out.

"Bloody Mary?" Calypso wondered quietly, trailing behind the Winchesters as they snuck upstairs and into the bathroom where Shoemaker died. "That can't be real, though. I mean, I did that once as a kid and it obviously didn't work."

"Yeah, and Dad never found any evidence that it was real, did he?" Sam asked Dean.

"Not that I know of," Dean replied, checking the mirror. "Maybe everywhere else it's fake, but here it's real."

Calypso shrugged, a weird feeling coming over her as she stepped into the bathroom. She gasped as goose bumps suddenly pricked up all over her skin from a sudden cold and a sentence flashed in her mind.

_You killed them._

"Callie?" she heard Sam ask from near the mirror. "You okay?"

"You don't feel it?" she asked shakily.

Sam and Dean exchanged a glance.

"Feel what?" Dean asked, coming closer to her, curious.

"It's just-" she struggled to explain. "It got cold as soon as I stepped in and-" she shuddered. "Something's seriously wrong."

"No kidding," Dean said. "None of this makes any sense."

"According to the legend, the person who says B-" Sam turned to see himself in the medicine cabinet mirror and shut it sharply. "The person who says you know what gets it, but here-"

"Shoemaker gets it instead, yeah," Dean finished for him. "Never heard of anything like that before. Still, the guy did die right in front of the mirror and the daughter's right. The way the legend goes, you know who scratches your eyes out."

"She's not gonna be summoned here if you only say it once," Calypso pointed out.

"We don't know that for sure," Dean said. Calypso shrugged.

"I think this is worth checking out," she said timidly, scared of voicing her opinion.

Sam and Dean nodded.

"Definitely."

As soon as they left the bathroom, they were discovered lurking upstairs by the older daughter's friend.

"What are you doing up here?" she demanded.

"We-we had go to the bathroom," Dean made up, an awful excuse.

"Who are you?" the girl asked.

"Like we said downstairs, we worked with Donna's dad," Dean claimed, repeating the lie they had told earlier.

"He was a day trader or something," she said accusingly. "He worked by himself,"

"No I know, I meant-"

"And all those weird questions downstairs, what was that?" she asked. "So you tell me what's going on or I start screaming." Though Calypso admired that the girl was standing up to them, now was not the time.

"Look," Calypso told her, "We don't know exactly what's going on, but we are trying to keep it from happening again. Don't you feel like there's something weird about this? Because trust me, there is. And as I said, we're trying to stop it. So scream if you really want, but what I just said was the truth."

"Who are you, cops?" she asked, bewildered. "You barely look older than twenty!" She told Calypso.

"I guess my makeup skills are improving," she said, truthfully. She knew from the start that she didn't look old enough to pass as a cop or an FBI agent, so Calypso played around with makeup, something she had never really used before, to make her a few years older. It seemed to be working. "And yeah, I guess we're kinda like cops."

"I'll tell you what," Sam said, taking a pen and a piece of paper out, writing down his cell phone number. "Here. If you think of anything, you or your friends notice anything strange, out of the ordinary... Give us a call."

He handed her the paper and he, Dean, and Calypso exited the house.

They went to the library in search of an easy way to determine who Bloody Mary was while alive, but all of the computers were out of order, making research longer and more annoying. The only thing they knew was that the ghost's name was Mary, and her death had something to do with a mirror. But nothing else.

Back in the motel room, Dean and Calypso looked through the old newspapers and records as quickly as possible while they let an exhausted Sam fall asleep on the couch, but research was still slow going.

"God!" Dean exclaimed, slamming a newspaper he was looking through down on the table. Calypso looked up from the record book she was reading, her eyesight blurred from the hours she had spent skimming over names and dates. "How do people do this stuff without computers?"

Calypso smiled and set the boring book down, glad for a tiny break from research. His comment brought back wonderful memories of her escapes into her old town library.

"I used to do school projects out of books and hand wrote essays most of the time because the library computers were never fixed," she said shyly. "I guess you just get used to it after a while."

"Didn't you have a computer at your house?" Dean asked curiously.

Calypso thought for a moment about how to answer the question without saying too much. Telling really personal stories to anyone, even those who you trust, is never a good idea. Eventually, they will stab you in the back and use your experiences against you.

"Not one I was allowed to use," Calypso answered slowly. Dean seemed to sense that he was hitting a little too close to home, and backed off from the topic.

The two of them looked over at Sam who seemed to be sleeping peacefully - for now. Calypso knew it was only a few minutes until he woke up screaming for Jessica.

On the same track as Calypso, Dean said, "I know you are probably wondering why Sam's having so many nightmares. See, he had this girlfriend-"

"I know what happened," Calypso interrupted before Dean could say anything else. "I didn't want to mention it before because it seemed too personal and I didn't want to invade Sam's privacy." Dean gave her an odd look. "Oh sorry," she said, realizing that she hadn't told him how she knew this and how strange it sounded. "I saw it through the weird dream-like things I had before I met you and Sam."

She knew how Sam's girlfriend had been killed. She saw her get pinned to the ceiling and set on fire. She knew what Sam was going through. Guilt was a funny thing.

"You saw Jessica's death in your dream?" Dean asked, shocked.

"As I said the last time we talked about them, it really didn't feel like a dream," Calypso explained calmly, though she felt anything but. "It felt like I was actually there. Remember how I said the ghost seemed to look at me in my first dream? I think Jessica saw me, too. I mean, she asked me to help her, before Sam came in, but-" she sighed and looked down at her clasped hand. "No matter how hard I tried, I seemed to go through every solid thing but the floor. I couldn't save her."

Dean looked at her for a moment, a strange look on his face.

"That sounds like you were some sort of ghost, but you aren't dead," Dean told her. "Are you?"

"Definitely not," Calypso replied quickly. "I think I would know if I died. Anyway, now that I'm awake, I can pick up stuff and do things that I couldn't in my dreams."

"That's weird," Dean said, almost to himself. "When you first told us about your dreams, I thought maybe you were a psychic or something, but their dreams are just the scene. They aren't in them."

"I'm a freak, aren't I," she said sadly. "These-these dreams, or whatever they are, aren't normal. Guess I've known it a long time, really."

"Hey," Dean said, attempting to comfort the girl. "Do Sam and I look anything near normal to you?"

Calypso smiled shyly and shook her head without a sound.

"See, you fit right in!" Dean told her. She laughed, something she didn't do often, Dean noticed. Only when she was really happy. It was strange.

"So, what did you find out?" she asked him.

"Nothing," Dean replied, exasperated. "Two women committed suicide in front of a mirror, but they were named Laura and Catherine, not Mary. What about you?"

"Well, a giant mirror fell on a man named Dave," she said, smiling. "Does that count?"

Dean laughed at her research.

"Is that the only thing you looked up?" he asked.

"Hey," she said defensively. "I've been working hard here!"

Before Dean could continue the conversation, Sam began to thrash in his sleep, murmuring Jessica's name over and over again. Dean sighed.

"How long are these nightmares going to stay?" Dean asked Calypso, knowing she had experience with watching a loved one die. She pursed her lips.

"For me, they never went away," she replied, not the answer Dean was hoping for. There was a pause. "Look, I know I'm not part of your family and really only here for food and a ride, but I think you should just, you know, comfort him or something. I had to deal with my Mom's death all alone. It makes things a lot harder." She shrugged. "He either needs someone to lean on or something to completely distract himself."

Then Sam jerked awake, and fell back onto the bed he slept on. Calypso looked at him sadly. It would never get better for him, she knew. Jessica's death would haunt him forever. He just needed something to distract himself.

"Why'd you let me fall asleep?" he asked Dean, tired.

"'Cause I'm an awesome brother," Dean said sarcastically. "So, what did you dream about?"

"Lollipops and candy canes," he replied, doing his best to sound sarcastic.

"Yeah, sure," Dean replied.

"Did you two find anything?" Sam asked.

"Oh, besides a whole new level of frustration?" Dean said while Sam sat up. "No, Callie and I looked at everything. A few local women, a Laura and a Catherine, committed suicide in front of a mirror and a-" Dean looked at Calypso and smiled slightly. "A giant mirror fell on a guy named Dave, but uh, no Mary."

Sam fell back onto the bed.

"Maybe we just haven't found it yet," Sam suggested.

"We looked at weird stuff in the area, like eyeball bleeding and that sort of thing," Calypso answered for Dean, "but there's nothing."

"Whatever's happening here, maybe it just ain't Mary," Dean said.

Before Sam could respond, his cell phone rang. Yawning, he picked it up and answered it. Calypso and Dean watched as a look of concern came over his face.

Oh no. Not another one.

It turned out that Charlie was the one on the phone with Sam. She told him her friend Jill was a victim of Bloody Mary. Without any other words, they hurried over to the park to meet her.

When they showed up, poor Charlie was sobbing on a park bench. Calypso sat down next to her gently while Sam and Dean stood around. They all listened as she told them about what happened to Jill.

"And they found her on the bathroom floor," she said, crying. "And her - her eyes. They were gone."

"I'm sorry," Calypso said quietly. She knew what it was like to lose a close friend.

"And she said it," Charlie continued, as if she didn't even hear Calypso. Calypso looked up at Sam and Dean. "I heard her say it. But it couldn't be because of that. I'm insane, right?"

"No, you're not insane," Dean told her.

"Oh God," Charlie said, burying her face in her hands. "That makes me feel so much worse."

"Look," Sam said. "We think that something's happening here. Something that can't be explained."

"And we're gonna stop it, but we need your help." Dean finished for him.

The next thing they knew, Charlie was letting Sam, Dean, and Calypso into Jill's room through the window.

Sam went through first, and Dean threw him a duffle bag full of tools that might be useful in hunting Bloody Mary. As Sam went through it, Dean entered the room, then Calypso.

Immediately, she felt that chill that made goose bumps pop up all over her skin as she gasped. And the same sentence as before flashed in her head. You killed them.

"She's definitely been here," Calypso said through clenched teeth.

"Great," Dean said, turning on the night vision camera for Sam. "Do I look like Paris Hilton?" He asked him, looking over his shoulder.

Calypso rolled her eyes and cautiously stepped into the room. Sam took the camera and began filming the mirror in Jill's closet.

"So I don't get it," he said. "I mean, the first victim didn't summon Mary, and the second victim did. How's she choosing them?"

"Beats me," Dean said as Calypso pursed her lips. Maybe it had something to do with the sentence she heard in her mind when she walked in a place Mary had visited. Sam closed the closet door. "I want to know why Jill said it in the first place."

"It's just a joke," Charlie said sadly.

"But someone's going to say it again," Calypso told her. "It's just a matter of time."

Calypso suddenly straightened up, feeling something hidden in the back of her mind take over control. The part of her that was in control made her walk into the bathroom where Sam was filming the mirror. Silently, she set her hand on a part of the mirror where some sort of liquid substance had dripped down. Normally she wouldn't pay attention to it, but the fact that it glowed slightly caught her eye. Somehow, she knew nobody else could see it. Sam moved the camera so that it filmed where Calypso's hand was, and saw what she did through the night vision. Sam called to Dean.

"Hey, there's a black light in the trunk, right?" Sam asked him.

Dean left to get the black light while Sam carried the mirror to the bed and tore the paper off of the back.

"Gary Bryman," Calypso said to herself, seeing the name and a handprint in the same substance as she saw earlier, this time on the back of the mirror.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked.

"You can't see it," she responded, clearly still in some sort of trance, touching the mirror gently. "Only I can."

"Callie?" Sam asked, hesitant. "Are you okay?"

"I am perfectly fine," she said, not looking away from the mirror. Sam motioned for Jill to step away from Calypso a few steps. "There is no need to be afraid," she told them, noticing their movement, though she never looked up at them. "I am here to help."

It was at that moment that Dean came back through the window with the black light. He noticed by Sam and Charlie's body language that something was wrong, almost immediately. He looked at Calypso, who stood up straighter than usual, who looked more composed, and knew something was wrong with her.

He launched himself at her and, even though she turned to look at him with her glassy eyes and could see him coming, she did nothing to prevent it. Calypso let Dean crash into her, knocking them both to the ground. And Dean noticed that her eyes cleared the moment he touched her.

"Callie?" He asked gently, getting up. She sat up, dazed. "You okay?"

"What the hell just happened?" she asked shakily. She stood up and went over to the mirror, but still saw exactly what she saw before. She rubbed her eyes and opened them again, but it was still there. "It's not going away!" Calypso said, on the verge of losing it.

"What's not going away?" Dean asked.

"The name and-" she bit her lip nervously. "I think it's Bloody Mary's handprint."

Dean came over and shined the black light over the back of the mirror. From the look of comprehension on his face, Calypso knew he saw what she did, under the black light.

"Gary Bryman?" Charlie said.

"Do you know who that is?" Calypso asked hopefully.

"No."

"So, Callie, what the hell was that?" Dean asked as they went back to the motel in the impala.

"I-I have no clue," she said truthfully, hugging her knees to her chest. "One moment I was myself and the next it's like another part of my mind wanted to show me something... And it left a piece of itself behind." An awful thought occurred to her. "Or maybe it was always there."

Dean and Sam exchanged a glance.

"That doesn't sound like possession," Sam pointed out. "Not at all."

"Yeah, maybe I just have a personality disorder or something," Calypso weakly joked.

"Did it seem... Friendly?" Sam asked.

"It seemed neutral," Calypso remembered. "It felt like it was just there to show me something, then went back to sleep or something." She laughed, sounding half stressed, half amused. "Dean, remember when you told me I fit in with you and Sam, earlier? I don't think that's true anymore!"

They soon found out that Gary Bryman was an eight year old boy who was killed in a hit and run accident two years before. Then Charlie told them that Jill drove the car described to have hit him. They all knew where to go next.

At the Shoemaker house, they found that Linda Shoemaker was written on the back of the mirror Mr. Shoemaker was killed in front of. When asked, Donna told them that Linda was her mother who overdosed on pills. She then became angry at them and ordered them to leave.

With no luck locating any Mary who died in front of a mirror in the town, Dean ramped the search up to a nationwide level, with some disagreement from Sam.

"Can't a ghost haunt an object though?" Calypso asked, still a little freaked out from her trance experience. "I mean, the thing might have moved somewhere around here, and that's why she's here."

"Yeah, that's definitely possible." Dean answered. Sam still seemed unhappy with the suggestion of checking the entire country. "There's nothing local, I've checked. So unless you got a better idea..."

There was a pause.

"The way Mary's choosing her victims, it seems like there's a pattern," Sam said.

"I was thinking the same thing," Calypso said. "I mean, Shoemaker and Jill's hit and run-"

"Both had secrets where someone got killed." Dean said, finishing her thought. She nodded.

"Right," Sam agreed. "I mean there's a lot of folklore about mirrors-that they reveal all your lies, all your secrets, that they're a true reflection of your soul, which is why it's bad luck to break them."

"Right, right," Dean said. "So maybe if you've got a secret, I mean like a really nasty one where someone died, then Mary sees it, and punishes you for it."

"Whether you're the one who summons her or not." Calypso finished gravely.

"Take a look at this," Dean said, showing Calypso and Sam a picture of a dead woman laying in a giant puddle of blood in front of a mirror with the letters "Tre," spelled out on it in what seemed like blood, with a bloody handprint nearby.

"Looks like the same handprint," Calypso noticed.

"Her name was Mary Worthington, an unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana." Dean told them.

Calypso knew where they were going next.

After a visit to a detective in the town, Sam, Dean, and Calypso all became sure that Mary Worthington was the ghost behind the killings. The fact that the woman was murdered by having her eyes cut seemed to support their conclusion, as did the fact that she spent her last moments trying to expose her killer's secret.

Her body was cremated, but the three figured her spirit was caught in the mirror she was murdered in front of. So they called her family and asked where the mirror was. It turned out that it was with the family until they sold it a week before to a store in Toledo. Her spirit was definitely tied up with the mirror somehow.

"I read somewhere that it was once believed that someone's spirit could get caught in a mirror after they died," Calypso said.

"Yeah, that's right," Sam confirmed. "When someone would die in a house people would cover up the mirrors so the ghost wouldn't get trapped."

"So Mary dies in front of a mirror, and it draws in her spirit," Dean said from the driver's seat.

"Yeah," Sam said, "but how could she move through like a hundred different mirrors?

"I don't know, but if the mirror is the source, I say we find it and smash it," Dean said. Calypso smiled a little.

"And how do we know that'll work?" she asked.

Before Dean could answer, Sam's cellphone rang.

"Hello?" he said, answering. A look of concern came over his face. "Charlie?"

Well crap.

"Hey, it's okay, it's okay," Calypso said gently, sitting next to Charlie, who had her face covered up and pressed into her knees, tucked against her body. "We're not gonna let her get you."

Sam and Dean were busy covering every reflective surface around the room, leaving nothing that Bloody Mary could get through.

Charlie had shakily told them how Donna said it while they were in the bathroom, and how she had seen Bloody Mary in every reflective surface since science class. Mary was out to get her.

Sam and Dean finished up putting sheets over any glass or mirrors, and Sam sat on the other side of Charlie.

"Hey, hey it's ok," Sam told the hysterical girl comfortingly. "Hey, you can open up your eyes Charlie. It's okay, all right?" Charlie slowly and cautiously raised her head. "Now listen," Sam said in the same gentle tone. "You're gonna stay right here on this bed, and you're not gonna look at glass, or anything else that has a reflection, okay? And as long as you do that, she cannot get you."

"But I can't keep that up forever," she said, sounding as if she had already given up. "I'm gonna die, aren't I?"

"No," Sam replied. "No. Not anytime soon."

Dean finished up his double checking of the room and sat down next to Sam on the bed.

"All right, Charlie," he said. "We need to know what happened."

"We were in the bathroom," she answered him. "Donna said it."

"That's not what we're talking about," Dean told her. "Something happened, didn't it? In your life...a secret...where someone got hurt. Can you tell us about it?"

Charlie didn't seem to want to, but did anyway.

"I had this boyfriend," Charlie began to explain hesitantly. "I loved him. But he kind of scared me too, you know? And one night, at his house, we got in this fight. Then I broke up with him, and he got upset, and he said he needed me and he loved me, and he said 'Charlie, if you walk out that door right now, I'm gonna kill myself.' And you know what I said? I said 'Go ahead.' And I left," she looked up at Calypso, then Sam and Dean. "How could I say that? How could I leave him like that? I just... I didn't believe him, you know? I should have." She put her face back into her knees and began to cry again so Calypso put a reassuring hand on her back.

"It's okay," she told her. "It's all going to be okay."

After they got Charlie protected as much as they could, Sam, Dean, and Calypso were off in the impala, driving to the shop where Bloody Mary's mirror was.

"You know, her boyfriend killing himself, that's not really Charlie's fault," Dean said to Sam and a silent Calypso sitting in the backseat.

"You know as well as I do spirits don't exactly see shades of gray, Dean," Sam explained. "Charlie had a secret, someone died, that's good enough for Mary."

"I guess," Dean replied.

"You know, I've been thinking," Sam said after a pause. "It might not be enough to just smash that mirror."

"Why, what do you mean?"

"Well Mary's hard to pin down, right?" Sam explained. "I mean she moves around from mirror to mirror so who's to say that she's not just gonna keep hiding in them forever? So maybe we should try to pin her down, you know, summon her to her mirror and then smash it."

"How do you know that's gonna work?" Calypso asked.

"I don't, not for sure," Sam answered.

"Well, who's gonna summon her?" Dean asked him.

"I will," Sam answered. "She'll come after me."

"You know what, that's it," Dean said, pulling the car over to the side of the road. "This is about Jessica, isn't it? You think that's your dirty little secret that you killed her somehow? Sam, this has got to stop, man. I mean, the nightmares and calling her name out in the middle of the night—it's gonna kill you. Now listen to me—It wasn't your fault. If you wanna blame something, then blame the thing that killed her. Or hell, why don't you take a swing at me? I mean I'm the one that dragged you away from her in the first place."

"I don't blame you," Sam told him quietly.

"Well you shouldn't blame yourself, because there's nothing you could've done," Dean said while Calypso tried to keep herself unnoticed in the backseat. This was a family thing. It didn't involve her.

"I could've warned her," Sam protested.

"About what?" Dean yelled. "You didn't know what was gonna happen! And besides, all of this isn't a secret, I mean I know all about it. It's not gonna work with Mary anyway."

"No you don't,"

"I don't know what?"

"You don't know all about it," Sam said reasonably. "I haven't told you everything."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well it wouldn't really be a secret if I told you, would it?" Sam pointed out.

"No," Dean said, looking surprised. "I don't like it. It's not gonna happen. Forget it."

"Dean, that girl back there is going to die unless we do something about it," Sam argued. "And you know what? Who knows how many more people are gonna die after that? Now we're doing this. You've got to let me do this."

"You know there's more than one person in this car that's qualified to carry the plan out, right?" Calypso pointed out.

"No!" Sam and Dean exclaimed together.

"No way," Dean told her. "Did you forget you're fifteen? No way you're risking your life in there!"

"Anyway, your Mom's death wasn't your fault at all," Sam continued. Calypso rolled her eyes.

"Like I told you weeks ago, you don't know anything about what really happened," Calypso told them. "And even if my Mom didn't work, I have backups."

"Backups?" Dean asked. "As in... more than one?"

"I'm not talking about it," she told him bluntly. "So, are you letting me do this?"

"No," Dean said with no hesitation. Calypso opened her mouth to protest, but Dean cut her off. "Maybe if you were older, but the fact is, even if all three of us forget it sometimes, you're fifteen. Sam and I are adults. We can take care of this."

"We know you're trying to help, Callie, but you just aren't ready for something like this yet," Sam added.

"You have no idea what I'm ready for," she told them, still fighting. "Don't you remember the vampires and that ghost we faced at the lake? And I'm not ready?"

"No, you're not ready for this," Sam told her. "Not yet."

"Wait a few years, then you'll be able to do this stuff," Dean said. "Just not now."

Calypso knew she was fighting a losing battle, so she sighed and silently nodded her head in defeat.

But she wasn't going to let them keep her out of all the action.

It only took a few minutes to get to the shop. Calypso picked the lock, since she was easily the best at it, and the three walked in. The only problem was that the shop was completely full of mirrors.

"Well, that's just great," Dean said, pulling out a photo of Bloody Mary's mirror. "All right, let's start looking."

Calypso knew where it was immediately. The feeling was so much stronger now, and it took all of her will to keep herself from collapsing onto the floor and clutching her head in between her hands. This was one powerful spirit.

She walked to the back of the store, following her instinct. She ended up in front of a square, dark gold mirror. This was the one.

"I found it!" she yelled quietly. Sam and Dean rushed over, and Dean held the picture up to compare.

"That's it," he said. Dean sighed and turned to Sam. "You sure about this?"

Sam handed his flashlight to him in response.

"Go hide in the back," Dean ordered Calypso. "Don't come up here, no matter what."

Sighing, Calypso went to the back of the store and sat in front of a big mirror.

_Come on, really?_ she thought to herself. _I'm the perfect person to help them, and they won't even let me close to the action! If only I could tell them…_

Her thoughts were interrupted by Sam as he repeated Bloody Mary three times.

She didn't hear anything happen, but saw a bright light shine from the front of the shop after a minute. Cops. She had accidentally set off the alarm when she unlocked and opened the door.

Oops.

"I'll go check that out," she heard Dean tell Sam. "Stay here, be careful." It was quiet for a moment before he added, "Smash anything that moves."

It became quiet then, and Calypso quickly became bored. She looked at her reflection and played with her hand, twisting it into all sorts of weird shapes. It's not like she had anything else to do. Then her heart stopped.

Her reflection had stopped mirroring her movements.

Instead, Calypso's reflection glared at her murderously, her hands in her lap. Her reflected self tilted her head slightly, and suddenly Calypso couldn't breathe. She clawed at her throat, terrified, the helpless feeling quickly consuming her. She had nothing to smash the mirror with, nothing to signal Sam and Dean. No one was going to save her. She collapsed onto her side, feeling drops of blood fall down her face from her now burning and throbbing eyes. How long was it going to last?

Her vision had black spots dancing across it, trying to pull her into unconsciousness, but she fought against it, only succeeding in exhausting herself. It looked like the fight was over.

Then it suddenly stopped. She collapsed onto the ground, her cheek pressed against the cool surface. Still gasping for breath, Calypso looked up, but her reflection still wasn't mirroring her movements. It stared at her for a moment, seeming to weigh two possibilities. Then the mirror rippled and began to mimic her movements again.

Calypso set her head onto the ground, closing her eyes, thoroughly relieved. That was a kind of torture she wasn't familiar with, and that's saying something. She wouldn't wish that on her worst enemy.

Then her eyes flew open.

"Sam," she hoarsely whispered. She hadn't heard anything from over his way, but that was most likely from the blood bumping in her ears.

She attempted to stand up, but her body was physically wrecked, and she collapsed again. It needed time to heal, time she didn't have to give. Calypso tried again to get up, this time aiming a little lower. She slowly but steadily reached a position on her hands and knees, exhausted from the effort. But she couldn't stop. Not when Sam's life was on the line.

She looked up at the mirror in front of her, getting an idea. Her hands reached out and curled around the mirror's base. Then, one hand after the other, she climbed into a standing position, her legs weak and heart pumping. She reached out to the next mirror in front of her and grasped the top of it, her knuckles turning pure white. She took an unsteady step forward, then quickly transferred her other hand onto the new mirror. It was a slow process and she knew she wasn't going to make it, but she had to try.

"Come on, Calypso," she whispered, encouraging herself, since nobody else ever did. "You can do this. You have to."

She repeated the process for the next few mirrors, trying to speed it up. Then she heard it. Glass shattering and spilling onto the ground.

_Sam,_ she thought, horrified. Was Mary attacking him? Was he fighting back? She couldn't tell.

She was practically running now, still depending heavily on the mirrors for support. She reached the last mirror to see a bloody Sam being held up by his older brother who was checking him for any serious injuries.

"Sam?" Calypso asked weakly.

Dean and his injured brother looked up at her, looks of shock crossing their faces.

"Callie, God, what happened?" Dean asked, helping Sam up.

"I was let off with a warning," she joked weakly, her fingers turning numb from holding onto the mirror too tightly.

"Come on, come on, let's get out of here," Dean said. He helped Sam up and then wandered over to Calypso. She carefully reached out to Dean's shoulder, grabbing on tightly. But she hesitated. By helping her walk to the car, Dean would have to hold her up. She didn't want him to touch her. But there was nothing she could do about it, was there?

"Callie, come on," Dean told her. "We should get going."

She nodded, her teeth clenched. She put her weight on the hand already holding onto Dean's shoulder, then quickly let go of the mirror and placed her hand on the other side of his neck.

"There you go," Dean said as she held on for her life. "Let's get both of you somewhere you can rest."

Calypso nodded, too exhausted to say anything. Dean helped both Sam and her take a few steps towards the door. She was overjoyed to get out.

Then the unthinkable happened.

Calypso suddenly stopped dead, feeling her throat closing up, quicker by the second. She put both of her hands on her throat, trying to claw out what was making her choke, terror devouring her.

"Dean!" she choked out, panicking, before collapsing onto the floor in a heap, blood dripping out of her eyes.

"Callie!" Dean exclaimed, before he and Sam both began to choke, but clearly not as severely as Calypso was. They both collapsed into kneeling positions, blood beginning to trickle out of their eyes.

Calypso heard the chiming of broken glass being moved around and looked up, her eyesight blurred. If she could have gasped, she would have. Bloody Mary was now out of the mirror, walking towards Calypso. Her long black hair was tangled, covering her face, and her dress was torn and dirty. Bloody Mary looked exactly like the classic ghost that was talked about in horror stories.

Calypso's eyes began to gush blood, coating her face. The pain was more intense now, like a dull blade was being stabbed into every inch of her body. And she would know what that feels like. She writhed in pain on the ground, her mouth open in a silent scream, a desperate plea for help. This wasn't just pain anymore. This was torture.

"Calypso," Mary hissed in a deep, raspy voice. "You've killed much more than my other victims." Calypso could barely push back against the crushing force, but managed to get out a weak whimper. "How many people have you killed, Calypso? How many of your friends and family are dead, because of you?"

For some reason, this made Calypso angry. She had killed a lot of people before, and she wasn't going to add the Winchesters to the list. Anger consumed her. It suddenly became easier to push back against Mary. She could breathe, just barely, and if she could breathe, even the slightest bit, she could get words out.

"How - Many - People - Have YOU - killed?" Calypso gasped, reveling in the surprise and pain on Mary's now visible face. Calypso smiled; her teeth were red with blood. "Go - To Hell - BITCH!"

And Bloody Mary shattered.

Her eyes went wide, full of fear, before she seemed to freeze. Then, without a warning, she exploded outward, showering Calypso and the Winchesters with, not blood and gore, but glass.

Calypso didn't have time to wonder how she did it. She was too exhausted. Though she tried to fight against it, her head settled on the floor again and the darkness took over her vision.

Sam and Dean sat up, groaning. That hurt like hell. They looked around at all the shattered glass, and noticed a very bloody teenage girl laying in front of them, her limbs splayed out in every direction.

Both of them were wary of what happened to Mary, but they didn't want Calypso to get hurt, even if she was something dangerous. The girl had grown on them.

"Callie?" Sam said, leaning forward and shaking her arm. She didn't respond, her eyes closed tightly and her body moving only in the way that Sam shook it. "Callie, wake up!" Her eyes didn't open.

"Damn it, Callie, come on!" Dean exclaimed. But she wasn't waking up. She laid there, completely unresponsive. It was as if she was dead.

Calypso's violet eyes suddenly opened and she sat straight up, without warning. Then, groaning, she laid back on the ground, hurt and tired. Her teeth clenched as she tried to fight back a whimper. She wasn't going to be moving anytime soon.

"Oh, thank God," Sam said while Dean sighed in relief. The young girl was alive. They could deal with anything else. "How are you feeling?"

"Just peachy," she replied sarcastically, staring straight up. It was a bit hard for her to breathe. She felt Sam's hands reach under her back. She groaned as he helped her into a sitting position and supported her so that she wouldn't fall back again.

"This is exactly why I told you to stay in the back!" Dean exclaimed.

"Hey," Calypso protested weakly. "I saved both of your asses."

But as she smiled, she realized she had no clue how.

They immediately went back to the motel to tell Charlie the good news and to clean up. After all, Calypso's face was almost completely covered in blood.

In the morning, they drove Charlie home.

"So this is really over?" the traumatized girl asked.

"Yeah, it's all over," Calypso replied with a nod.

"Thank you," she said. Dean reached back to shake her hand, and Charlie and Calypso shared a hug.

"You aren't actually older than twenty, are you?" Charlie asked.

"Fifteen," Calypso admitted.

"Whoa," was Charlie's only response. Calypso smiled knowingly and Charlie got out of the car and began to walk up to her front door.

"Charlie?" Sam called after her. She turned around. "Your boyfriend's death...you really should try to forgive yourself. No matter what you did, you probably couldn't have stopped it. Sometimes bad things just happen."

Charlie smiled faintly, before continuing the trip up her lawn and into her house.

Dean hit Sam gently.

"That's good advice," he said. Yeah, it was. They began to drive off. "Hey Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Now that this is all over, I want you to tell me what that secret is."

"Look... You're my brother and I'd die for you, but there are some things I need to keep to myself," Sam looked out the window and seemed to see something, but whatever he was looking at disappeared and he looked back into the impala. "More importantly, Callie, how did you get rid of Mary?"

She shrugged.

"I honestly have no clue," she said. "I mean, I was really pissed off since she was gonna kill both of you, too, and I kinda just told her to go to hell and... Maybe she did."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look. Calypso knew what they were thinking.

Was Calypso another monster they needed to hunt?

She didn't know the answer, herself.


	4. Chapter 4

Calypso often wondered what her life would be like if she hadn't run away. In fact, that's what she found herself wondering when she and the Winchesters stopped for gas on their way to nowhere. Maybe she would be sitting by her tree grown in the woods behind the old park near her house, writing in her notebook or singing softly to herself and the birds. If it was a good day, maybe she'd even have a book to read and distract herself with. Anything but facing the real world.

"Right Callie?" she heard Sam ask, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"Huh?" she asked, straightening up and no longer looking out the window. Sam laughed.

"I said," Sam began, sorting through stuff on his phone, "That Dean's antisocial, while we actually have people we keep in touch with."

"Oh," she said, crinkling her eyebrows together. "I actually don't keep in touch with anyone."

"Really?" Sam asked, looking up from the messages he was looking through.

"Well, I don't have any friends to keep in touch with," Calypso explained. "Never have, really."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look.

"Then what are you doing on your phone all the time?" Dean asked.

"Personal stuff," she answered quickly.

Sam and Dean exchanged a look before continuing whatever they were doing before. They had learned a while ago that Calypso would never tell them anything if they asked. They had to wait for her to choose to open up, even if she hadn't really yet.

"God..." Sam said quietly.

"What?" Calypso asked.

"In this e-mail from this girl, Rebecca Warren, one of those friends of mine-" Sam began.

"Is she hot?" Dean asked. Calypso shot him a dirty look.

"I went to school with her, and her brother, Zack," Sam said, ignoring him. "She says Zack's been charged with murder. He's been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didn't do it, but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case."

"Dude, what kind of people are you hanging out with?" Dean asked jokingly.

"No, man, I know Zack," Sam told him. "He's no killer."

"Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you," Dean said. He had a point, Calypso realized. Sam's college friends didn't know this side of him, the side that hunts monsters and saves people. It made her wonder. Maybe Dean was right.

"They're in St. Louis," Sam said, ignoring his older brother's comment. "We're going."

Dean chuckled.

"Look," he said, "Sorry about your buddy, okay? But this does not sound like our kind of problem."

"It is our problem," Sam said fiercely. "They're my friends."

Is that really what friends were like? Willing to drop everything at a moment's notice in order to help them? Calypso wouldn't know. She'd only had one friend before, and it didn't end well.

"St. Louis is four hundred miles behind us, Sam!" Dean pointed out. Sam stared him down.

And they were back on the road, going the opposite way of where they were headed before.

Soon enough they arrived at Rebecca's house and Sam knocked on the front door. It was opened by a pretty blonde girl who seemed surprised to see them

"Oh my God, Sam!" Rebecca said happily.

"Well, if it isn't little Becky," Sam teased.

"You know what you can do with that little Becky crap," she said smiling. She hugged Sam.

"I got your email," Sam told her.

"I didn't think that you would come here," she told him.

Dean stepped forward to shake Becky's hand. Calypso smiled slightly, still standing behind Sam, where she was unseen.

"Dean," he said. "Older brother."

"Hi," Becky said.

"Hi," Dean repeated back.

Sam stepped aside so that Becky could easily see Calypso.

"Oh, hi!" Becky said, surprised there was another one. "I didn't see you there!"

"Well, you can blame these two giants for that," Calypso said, making her personality for Becky a borderline bratty teenager. For everyone she met, she would have a different personality. In fact, she didn't know what she was actually like. "I'm Calypso."

"She's a family friend," Sam lied. "Her parents asked us to watch over her while they're away."

"A two week vacation to Hawaii," Calypso said, rolling her eyes, "And I wasn't even allowed to come. I mean, really?"

Becky smiled and Calypso breathed a silent sigh of relief. She had always acted too old for her age, and it was weird to be saying things that a normal teenager would say.

"We're here to help," Sam explained. "Whatever we can do."

"Come in," Becky said. The three entered the large and rather nice house and Dean closed the door behind them.

"Nice place," Dean commented as they walked the through the house.

"It's my parents'," Becky explained. "I was just crashing here for the long weekend when everything happened. I decided to take the semester off. I'm gonna stay until Zack's free."

"Where are your folks?" Sam asked.

"They live in Paris for half the year, so they're on their way home now for the trial," Becky said as they entered the kitchen. "Do you guys want a beer or something?" she offered kindly.

"Hey-" Dean said smiling, before he was cut off by Sam.

"No, thanks," Sam said, shooting Dean a look. "So, tell us what happened."

"Well, um, Zack came home, and he found Emily tied to a chair," Becky said, clearly not wanting to tell the tale. "And she was beaten up and bloody, and she wasn't breathing." She began to cry getting more upset the longer she talked. "So, he called 911, and the police—they showed up, and they arrested him. But, the thing is, the only way that Zack could've killed Emily is if he was in two places at the same time," she insisted. "The police—they have a video. It's from the security tape from across the street. And it shows Zack coming home at 10:30. Now, Emily was killed just after that, but I swear, he was here with me, having a few beers until at least after midnight."

"You know, maybe we could see the crime scene," Sam said. "Zack's house."

"We could," Dean said, almost as a question while Calypso shot Sam a look.

"Why?" Becky asked. "I mean, what could you do?"

"Well me, not much," Sam said. "But Dean's a cop."

Dean laughed, maybe about the argument earlier about Sam lying to his friends and him denying it. When Calypso thought about it, this did seem pretty ironic.

"Detective actually," Dean claimed, done laughing.

"Really?" Becky asked, curious. Dean nodded. "Where?"

"Bisbee, Arizona," he lied. "But I'm off duty now."

"You guys, it's so nice to offer, but I just-I don't know," Becky said, unsure about the idea.

"Bec, look, I know Zack didn't do this," Sam said soothingly. "Now, we have to find a way to prove that he's innocent."

"Okay," Becky said, agreeing to their insane plan based off a lie. "I'm gonna go get the keys."

She walked down the hallway and Dean and Calypso turned to Sam accusingly.

"Oh, yeah, man, you're a real straight shooter with your friends," Dean said sarcastically.

"What were you thinking?" Calypso asked Sam sharply. "We go to the crime scene, Becky tells about it, we're screwed!"

"Look, Zack and Becky need our help," Sam said, defensive of his lie.

"I just don't think this is our kind of problem," Dean said. Calypso wasn't sure. The whole "two places at once" thing seemed weird.

"Two places at once?" Sam said, pointing out exactly what Calypso was thinking. "We've looked into less."

It seemed that Dean knew he was defeated, for once, and stopped arguing.

They didn't find anything at Zack's place except that a dog who used to be sweet and gentle was now aggressive and territorial. This didn't seem to carry any importance to Calypso, who didn't have any experience with hunting, but both Winchesters became certain that this was their kind of problem from the tiny occurrence. Calypso had a lot to learn.

They asked to see the tape that showed Zack going into his girlfriend's house, and Becky was happy to show it to them. The copy she stole off of the lawyer's desk, at least. When they watched it, Sam pointed out a few frames where Zack's eyes turned silver when he looked at the camera. Sam explained to Calypso how the dog might have seen what this thing was, since dogs could easily see paranormal happenings that humans couldn't. They seemed to be on the right track, whatever answer they were headed to.

The next day, there was another attack. While Sam, Dean, and Calypso were searching for an exit path of the murderer from Zack's house, an ambulance roared past. They exchanged looks before following it to a house where a woman said that a man tried to kill his wife. The only problem was that the man was in the car on the way home from a business trip when it happened, and said he saw another him when he was in the house.

"Shapeshifter?" Sam suggested as the three discussed. Dean shrugged. "Something that can make itself look like anyone?"

Calypso thought about it. If this thing could turn itself into anyone, the three would have to keep close tabs on each other. Once the thing figured out he was being hunted, he'd try to stop them in any way possible. Just wonderful.

"Every culture in the world has a shapeshifter lore," Dean said. "You know, legends of creatures who can transform themselves into animals or other men."

"Like skinwalkers or werewolves?" Calypso suggested. She may be new to the whole hunting lifestyle, but she wasn't an idiot. She read a lot of books about this stuff even before she met the Winchesters, and, even though she was definitely not an expert, she still prided herself in knowing quite a bit. Enough to keep up with the brothers, at least.

"Exactly," Dean agreed, looking surprised that she knew about skinwalkers, since they were never as popular as werewolves were. She shyly smiled. "We've got two attacks within blocks of each other. I'm guessin' we've got a shapeshifter prowlin' the neighborhood."

"Let me ask you this," Sam said. "In all this shapeshifter lore, can any of them fly?"

"Not that I know of," Dean answered.

"I picked up a trail here," Sam said, explaining his absurd question. "Someone ran out the back of this building and headed off this way."

"Like at your friend's house," Calypso remembered, seeing the blood on the lamp post all over again.

"Yeah," Sam said. "And, just like at Zack's house, the trail suddenly ends. I mean, whatever it is just disappeared."

Calypso glanced at her feet for a moment, then looked back down, her interest suddenly rising.

_Of course._ she thought.

The shapeshifter didn't run down the street to get away.

He went into the sewer.

"This is gross," Calypso grumbled, the last one to climb down into the slimy darkness of the underground.

"Hey," Dean said. "This was your idea."

"That doesn't mean I have to like it," she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest protectively. Sam smiled.

"I bet this runs right by Zack's house, too," he said, getting back to the obvious subject at hand. "The shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around."

"I think you're right," Dean said, sounding a little bit disgusted. "Look at this."

Sam and Calypso bent down to see what Dean was talking about, and discovered a revolting pile of blood and flesh.

"I take back what I said earlier," Calypso declared. "_This_ is gross."

"Is this from his victims?" Sam asked. Dean took out a pocket knife and played with the pile.

"You know, I just had a sick thought," he said. "When the shapeshifter changes shape—maybe it sheds."

Calypso looked at Dean, disgusted.

"That's sick," Sam told him, sounding majorly grossed out. They decided to leave the sewer and get better weapons before trying to hunt the thing down.

"Well, one thing I learned from Dad, is that no matter what kind of shapeshifter it is, there's one sure way to kill it," Dean said once the trunk of the impala was opened.

"Silver bullet to the heart," Sam finished for his brother. How cute.

"That's right," Dean said. When Sam's phone began to ring, Calypso followed Dean to the other side of the car.

"Does all silver work?" Calypso asked. "Like a knife?"

"Yeah," Dean answered. "But silver knives can be hard to come by. Why?"

Calypso reached into her left back pocket and pulled out her small but useful knife. Both its handle and its blade shone brightly, evidently well cared for. It certainly looked silver, and she was almost completely sure it was.

"I'm still a pretty bad shot," she told Dean. He tried to interrupt her, but she cut him off. "Don't try to say that I'm actually good or something like that because we both know I still need a lot of work." Dean and Sam had been taking turns teaching her how to shoot, and it had actually been going pretty well, but she was definitely not ready to be shooting in the field, yet. "I can be quick and nimble when I want to. I'd have a better chance with a knife up close than with a gun from far away. I just wanted to make sure the knife would actually work."

Dean nodded unsurely.

"Don't try to get too close to the thing trying to prove your point, okay?" he told her. She smiled with anticipation.

"You know, each time you tell me not to do something, I end up doing it anyway?" Calypso pointed out. "You're just gonna have to watch me."

"Bec, I'm sorry, but-" Calypso heard Sam say. She looked up sadly as she saw Sam slowly put down his phone. Dean sighed and walked over. Feeling as though it was a personal issue between the brothers, Calypso stayed where she was.

"I hate to say it, but that's exactly what I'm talkin' about," Dean told Sam. "You lie to your friends because if they knew the real you, they'd be freaked. It's just—it'd be easier if—"

"If I was like you," Sam finished half-heartedly.

"Hey, man, like it or not, we are not like other people," Dean told him with a smile. "But I'll tell you one thing. This whole gig—it ain't without perks." Dean held out a gun to Sam, who took it and placed it in the back of his jeans. Dean motioned for Calypso to follow him, and they went off to explore the revolting sewers.

"I think we're close to its lair," Dean said a few hours later while they were searching underground.

"Why do you say that?" Sam asked, moving his flashlight around.

"Because there's another puke inducing pile next to your face," Dean told him. Sam turned to see a pile of skin and blood on the pipe just behind him.

"Oh god!" Sam exclaimed, disgusted, while Calypso laughed.

"Sissies," she joked, her flashlight hitting a pile of clothes in the corner. "Huh," she said. "Looks like it's lived here a while."

"Who knows how many murders he's gotten away with?" Sam said. He turned around to see the shapeshifter, in the form of the Asian man they had seen get arrested a few hours before, standing right behind Calypso. "Callie!" he shouted.

She turned and jumped at the sight of the shapeshifter, her hand quickly wrapping around her knife as the thing's hand raised up, but suddenly Dean was standing in front of her, taking the blow the shapeshifter threw, in his left shoulder. He fell into Calypso and took them both to the ground in a heap. The shapeshifter ran away, Sam shooting after it three times as Dean and Calypso stood up, the latter extremely quickly, Dean clutching his left shoulder with his right hand. Calypso looked at him in awe. He had just taken a blow for her, a girl he barely knew. She reached for his shoulder, but Dean shook his head.

"Get the son of a bitch!" Dean insisted. The three sprinted after the shapeshifter, who left the sewer as soon as he could, and ended up in a busy part of the town. They looked around, but couldn't find the shapeshifter.

"All right, let's split up," Sam suggested. Calypso nodded.

"All right, I'll meet you around the other side," Dean said.

"All right," Sam agreed.

"Callie, go with Sam!" Dean said, before turning and running down the end of the street he was supposed to. She turned to Sam and they rushed towards the crowd of busy city people walking down the street.

"How exactly are we supposed to find him in this mob of people?" Calypso asked Sam in a low voice. He shrugged, not entirely sure. And though they scanned every face in the crowd, not one was the shapeshifter.

They quickly made it to the end of the street where they waited for Dean. It took a few minutes before he showed up, a suspiciously long amount of time.

"Hey," Dean said, sounding the same as always. This put Calypso's mind at ease.

"Anything?"

Calypso shook her head.

"Nothing," she told him. "He vanished."

"All right, let's get back to the car," Dean suggested. Calypso nodded and crossed the street. And as she did, a thought crossed her mind. What if the shapeshifter could mimic a personality so perfectly that nobody could tell?

Calypso shivered, but it wasn't from the cold.

They stopped back at the car, where Sam and Calypso shared an unsure glance. They knew they were both on the same page, and needed Dean to prove that he wasn't the shapeshifter in a subtle way. If he was, then where was Dean?

"You think he found another way underground?" Sam asked Dean, sounding normal so that he wouldn't tell Dean outright that he and Calypso weren't sure if he was actually Dean.

"Yeah, probably," Dean replied. "You got the keys?"

Calypso walked over to the right side back door, ready to get in, but paused, just like Sam did on the way to the driver's seat.

"Hey," Sam began, subtly testing Dean. "Didn't Dad once face a shapeshifter in San Antonio?"

"Oh, that was Austin," Dean said, answering the question correctly. "It turned out not to be a shapeshifter, it was a thought form. A psychic projection, remember?"

"Oh, right," Sam said, but he and Calypso weren't completely convinced yet. "Here you go." He tossed the keys to Dean who caught them with his left hand. The arm that was hurt earlier. As the fake Dean opened the trunk, Calypso and Sam exchanged a panicked glance. Calypso quietly pulled out her knife while Sam took out his gun. She knew the plan without looking at Sam. She would take the shapeshifter's back while Sam confronted him head on. They heard the shapeshifter's delighted laugh, and rushed over.

"Don't move!" Sam yelled, pointing a gun at the thing. It turned around to see Sam, then turned to behind him to see Calypso pointing a very sharp silver knife at him. "What have you done with him?" Sam was beginning to sound very panicked. If they were going to take the thing down, they both needed to keep their heads.

"Dude," fake Dean began, not comforting Sam or Calypso, "chill. It's me, all right?"

"No," Sam said, not wavering. "I don't think so. Where's my brother?"

"You're about to shoot him!" the shapeshifter protested. "Sam, Callie, calm down,"

"You caught the keys with your left hand," Calypso pointed out calmly. "Your shoulder was hurt. You shouldn't have been able to catch anything that easily. The pain would at least make you wince."

"Yeah, it's better, now," it said. "What do you want me to do, cry?"

"You're not my brother," Sam insisted.

"Why don't you pull the trigger, then?" the thing asked, keeping a wary eye on Calypso, who was more likely to strike. "Hm? 'Cause you're not sure. Dude, you know me."

"Don't," Sam said. Without warning, the shapeshifter struck him with a crowbar twice, knocking him out.

Calypso gasped before the thing turned to her. She held up the knife, visibly shaken that she was the only one left.

"Not a step closer!" she warned, keeping the knife between them.

The shapeshifter looked at her, surprised.

"You would stab me, wouldn't you?" he asked, taking a knife out of the trunk to face her with.

"Yes, I would," she told him. Fake Dean crouched down next to unconscious Sam, holding the knife up to his throat. Calypso's heart stopped. What was he going to do to Sam? She wouldn't get there in time, if the shifter decided to slit his throat!

"You're not like most people I've met," the shifter commented. "They can't stand to hurt loved ones, or," he laughed, "what look like loved ones. But maybe you can see through my shell." He looked down at the knife against Sam's throat. "So I'll give you a choice. Put down the knife, or I slit his throat." She looked at the shifter, panicked. "One," he said. She looked at Sam desperately. "Two," she looked at her own knife. "Th-"

"Fine!" she almost sobbed, putting the knife back into her pocket. She was at least going to keep it on her. The shapeshifter smiled Dean's smile.

"Perfect," he said. "Put both hands out where I can see them." Calypso obliged, raising both hands in the air. He stepped forward, over Sam's unconscious body, standing right in front of her. She stared up at fake Dean defiantly. "I like you," the shifter said, after being silent for a while. "I don't want to hurt you, but I will if I have to." Calypso stayed silent. "Now, get on your knees." She did as he told her to, and glared up at him. "Stay there," the shapeshifter said, going to the trunk and rifling around. He pulled out some rope and duct tape, eventually, and went back to Calypso. Without saying a word, he pulled off a piece of duct tape. "This should keep you quiet," he said, sticking it over her lips. She froze as she felt the shapeshifter's hand over mouth. She didn't like this, not one bit. "Put your arms out behind your back," he ordered, taking the piece of rope into his hands. She slowly placed both arms behind her body, and watched the shapeshifter walk around her until he was out of sight. She jumped when she suddenly felt his hands on her forearms, sliding down until he reached her wrists. She felt the rope wrap around her wrists and hands tightly, making expert knots and loops.

She felt awful for not killing him, but if she did, Sam would've died, too. They would make it out of this. They had to.

"Put your feet out," fake Dean ordered next. She sat down, her legs stuck out in front of her, and watched the shapeshifter come back around and tie her feet together. "Now... Wait," he said, going back to the trunk and pulling out a long piece of cloth. "Perfect." He came back around to the back of her and, suddenly, she couldn't see. She felt him tie the cloth around her eyes, and knot it at the back of her head. She was blind. "Good girl," fake Dean told her, wherever he was, patting her on the head. She felt him pick her up by throwing her over his shoulder, though she struggled and recoiled at his touch, and heard a dragging sound. Sam.

She couldn't tell where they were going, but by the smell, she figured they were in the sewer. She tried to memorize the path, left, right, right, straight, but by the time she was put down, she had forgotten all of it.

"Stay put," fake Dean told her, joking. There was no way she would be able to move with her wrists and ankles tied together so tightly. She heard the rustling of ropes and knew the shapeshifter was tying Sam up. A few minutes later, she heard footsteps towards her, then felt hands wrap around her body, putting her down with her back against the wall. She heard more ropes being tied, and felt the ropes connecting her wrists and ankles being tied to something over her head, possibly a pipe. She tried to pull on them, but they were very secure.

"Don't bother," she heard the shifter say. "My knots are too tight to break."

She made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat.

"Oh, come on, don't be like that," fake Dean joked. "I'm not going to kill you or your friends - yet. Hell, I might keep you around a while just for..." He caressed her face while she tried to shrink back. "Fun." He laughed. "Man, what are you? Even Dean doesn't know!" He paused. "The way you took down Bloody Mary? No salt or iron, just words? You've gotta know that's not normal." She struggled against her bonds. "And the whole sensing ghosts thing... You're just as much a freak as I am. Maybe even more of one." He backed away. "We have a lot in common, Callie. We're both freaks. Rejected, turned away... Hated." She tried to lash out, but the ropes stopped her. "You might as well embrace this side of yourself. We're gonna be together a while."

He was silent for a while, and Calypso heard some rustling somewhere in front of her. Then there was the sound of a fist on skin, a crack. She heard a groan. Sam.

"Where is he?" she heard Sam ask. "Where's Dean?"

"I wouldn't worry about him," the shapeshifter said, coming closer to Calypso. "I'd worry about you." She felt the shapeshifter's hand caress her face again and she made a sharp panicked sound, only slightly muffled by the duct tape. "And your little... Pet."

"Don't touch her," Sam said. He sounded angry.

"And what are you going to do about it?" fake Dean asked, continuing to follow the same path down her face with his hand while Calypso continued to make quiet protesting noises. "Pretty little girl, too. I'm surprised one of you hasn't dug your claws into her yet." Sam was silent, but Calypso knew he was enraged. "Well, I might as well take her, then." His hand left her face and she sighed in relief, then tensed as she felt a hand on her neck and breath in by her ear. "Be a good girl, Callie," she heard fake Dean whisper, loud enough for Sam to hear, too. "Play along."

She tried to scream and fight as she felt lips press on her neck, a face get buried between her head and shoulder. She was crying, she could feel it, the moisture being absorbed by the cloth covering her eyes. She tried to keep memories barricaded in the back of her mind, fighting off flashbacks of a similar occurrence.

"Get off her!" Sam yelled. She felt the shapeshifter smile into her neck and draw back, leaving her shaking and crying on the ground.

"That was refreshing, wasn't it, Callie?" the thing said. She shrunk back against the wall as much as she could, whimpering like a hurt puppy. She heard fake Dean laugh. "We're going to have so much fun when I get back." Calypso screamed into the duct tape. "Don't worry, I'm not leaving for a few minutes."

She felt breath in her face and she did the only thing she could to get him away. Calypso reared her head back and swung it forward. Her aim was perfect. She felt her forehead hit fake Dean's hard enough to make both of them yell in pain.

"You little bitch!" fake Dean exclaimed. She heard him walk away, then come back. Something suddenly hit the wall next to her face, making her jump and wince. "I'm done playing nice with you!" Whatever he struck the wall with hit her in the side, hard, making her gasp. He hit her again on her other side, even harder. He used whatever it was to hit her a few more times, then stopped. "Let this be a warning, Calypso," fake Dean hissed. "Next time you fight back, I won't be so forgiving."

Thinking it was over, Calypso relaxed. Then she heard a swoosh next to her left ear, and something hit her head.

Everything went black.

Calypso woke up when she felt careful fingers gently taking the cloth off her eyes.

"Calypso?" she heard a soft voice say. "Calypso, can you hear me?"

Her eyes fluttered open and she saw two blurry figures kneeling in front of her. She blinked a couple times to clear her vision, and Sam and Dean became clearer. Not perfect, but good enough. She tried to move her legs, but she was still attached to the pipe above her. She tried to move her wrists, too, and she tugged hard, but they wouldn't come loose.

"Hey, hey, easy there," Sam said. "You took quite a beating." Calypso tried to respond, then realized there was still duct tape over her mouth. Dean noticed it at that moment, too.

"This is probably gonna hurt, okay?" Dean told her. She nodded, still out of it. He took one side of the tape and, without wasting any time, tore it off. Calypso pressed her lips together and shut her eyes tightly to keep from making any noise, no matter how soft.

"There we go," Sam said gently. "You okay?"

She nodded.

"Yeah," she said softly. "Yeah, I'm fine. What happened? Where's the shapeshifter?"

"He's on his way to Rebecca's," Dean told her, taking out a knife to cut the ropes with.

"Then why are you wasting time getting me?" she asked quietly, not having enough energy to yell. "Just give me the knife and get out of here."

"Like you're strong enough to cut through these right now," Dean said, beginning to cut the ropes on her ankles. "Sam told me what happened with the shifter," he said, more gently. "Are you sure you're okay?"

She nodded again.

"I'm sure I'll go into shock later, or something," she joked weakly, leaning her head back against the wall.

"So what happened when the thing knocked me out?" Sam asked her.

She moved her head back down to look at him again.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I could've killed it, but the shapeshifter held a knife to your throat and told me to put mine down or he'd kill you so I did. And then he told me to stay quiet while he tied me up, and... Well, the threat still stood, didn't it?" Sam and Dean exchanged a glance. "Then he brought us both down here and he told me he was gonna-" she cut herself off. Dean finished cutting her legs loose.

"He told you he was gonna what?" Sam asked. Dean paid close attention, not moving onto her wrists yet.

"Never mind, it's not important," she said quickly.

"Callie," She looked up at Dean. "What was he gonna do?" She looked down at her lap and shook her head. "Callie, it's okay. Just tell us what happened."

"He told me he was gonna keep me around for 'fun,'" she finally admitted, her voice shaking slightly.

"Did he mean..." Dean began, trailing off. Calypso looked up at him and nodded, ashamed. "That sick, twisted-"

"Let's just get out of here," she interrupted. Dean looked at her a moment, then nodded, and began to work on the ropes tying her wrists together.

"Did you notice he seemed to know stuff? Stuff only Dean would know?" Calypso asked Sam.

"Yeah," he replied. "It was like he was downloading his thoughts, I think."

"Weird," Calypso said. There was a pause. "You know, he said that I'm just as much of a freak as he is."

"No you're not," Dean said from behind her.

"You don't know that," Calypso told him. She tilted her head a bit. "What if I'm something you need to hunt? What if I'm a-a monster?" She looked at Sam with wide eyes.

"You're not," Sam told her gently. "You haven't killed anyone, have you?"

Well…

"Not directly," she admitted after a moment.

"Then you don't have to worry about it," Dean told her. There was a snap. "Done!"

Calypso smiled, then struggled to stand up. She grabbed onto the pipe above her head and pulled herself into a standing position, wincing from the pain in her stomach.

"Damn," she said quietly, still. "That kinda hurt."

"I can carry you or something," Sam offered.

"No!" Calypso said, louder than before. Sam and Dean looked at her strangely. "I mean," she struggled to cover her mistake. "After walking for a while, you get used to it. It's not even that bad."

"You were hit multiple times with an iron bar," Dean told her. "How is that not bad?"

She shrugged.

"I, uh, have had worse?" she told them, telling them a portion of the truth. "I was tortured when my mom... you know... remember?"

Sam and Dean exchanged a look. That was when she was six years old. Something would have happened closer to the present in order for this to not be that bad.

"At least use me for support, then," Sam told her, him and Dean giving up on asking questions. She seemed to notice that they were letting her keep secrets, at least for a little while, and smiled gratefully. Calypso nodded and reached out to grab onto his shirt. It didn't take too long to find an exit from the sewer.

"Okay, Callie, we're gonna have to get you up the ladder somehow," Dean told her. She rolled her eyes and let go of Sam, taking a few somewhat shaky steps forward to the ladder. "Callie-"

"I'm not weak," she spat out, almost to herself. "I can do this myself."

And she did. Sure, it took longer for her to climb the ladder than a healthy person would, but she still made it up the ladder without slipping or stopping. Sam and Dean watched her climb up, proving to herself that she was stronger than her injuries, hoping she wouldn't fall, but prepared if she did.

Once on the ground, Callie waited a few seconds for both Winchesters to climb up, leaning against a wall.

"Come on, we gotta find a phone, call the police," Sam told Dean and Calypso.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean said. "You're gonna put an APB out on me."

Sam shrugged.

"Sorry," he said.

"This way," Dean said. He and Sam took off down the street. Calypso gritted her teeth and followed them.

They found a television store with the local news and found out that the shifter, disguised as Dean, had gotten into Rebecca's house, tied her up, and beat her. The SWAT team arrived before he could kill her, but the monster got away. They realized they had no weapons, except Calypso's knife, and they needed to go back to the car, which was still parked at Rebecca's, to get more.

"Oh, there she is!" Dean said, relieved, once the impala was in sight. "Finally, something went right, tonight." Naturally, as soon as he said that, a police car appeared and parked by his car. They turned to see another one parked behind them.

"You had to jinx it?" Calypso asked, almost back to her usual self.

"This way, this way," Dean said, turning to a fence.

"You go, we'll hold them off," Sam said.

"What are you talking about? They'll catch you both!" Dean said.

"Look, they can't hold us," Sam insisted. Calypso turned to him, her eyes wide. Maybe they can't hold him, but... "Just go, keep out of sight. Meet us at Rebecca's." Dean began to climb up the fence. "Dean." Dean stopped climbing and turned around. "Stay out of the sewers alone!" Dean didn't reply and jumped over the fence. "I mean it!"

"Yeah, yeah," Dean called back.

"Don't move!" a police man yelled. "Keep your hands where I can see 'em!"

"Uh, Sam?" Calypso said, raising her hands above her head.

"Yeah?" Sam replied, doing the same.

"Just, uh, don't give them my real name," she whispered. "I'm Catherine Bridges now, okay?" she told him, naming her look alike who turned eighteen the year before. He looked at her oddly. "I'll explain later."

The police questioned them a little bit, but their cover story held up pretty well, and they were released quickly. Naturally, they went straight over to Rebecca's to check on her and explain. She seemed okay, but didn't seem to believe their story of the shapeshifter. Hell, if Calypso was in her shoes, she wouldn't believe them, either.

"So, say this shapeshifter is real," Rebecca said. "By the way, you know you're crazy? But, um, say it is real. How do you stop it?" She took Sam's empty beer bottle and replaced it with a full one.

Sam sighed.

"Thanks," he said. "Silver bullet to the heart,"

"Or a silver knife," Calypso said, holding hers up. "But these are a little harder to find."

"You are crazy," Rebecca said. Calypso heard the sound of breaking glass and looked up at Becky. She held a broken beer bottle in her hand, looking down at Sam, unconscious on the couch. Calypso gasped.

"Hello, darling," Becky said.

Her eyes glinted silver.

Calypso jumped up, her knife already in her hand. Without waiting for an invitation, she leapt over the couch, tackling the shapeshifter onto the ground. Calypso tried to stab it, but it rolled on top of her, straddling Calypso between its legs. She tried to get up, but the shapeshifter held her down incredibly well. It pulled Calypso's head up by her hair.

"Now, now, Calypso," the shifter said. "We have some unfinished business to take care of."

Then the creature brought Calypso's head down on the floor hard, knocking the girl out.

When Calypso woke up, she found herself standing, tied to the ceiling. Her feet were just barely touching the floor, and her arms were very sore from hanging there. Calypso realized she felt lighter and looked around, confused. Her jacket was on the counter, a few yards away from her. With her jacket gone, she was left wearing her long sleeved purple shirt. Calypso didn't want to know why. She tugged at the ropes, experimentally. The knots were looser this time. The shapeshifter had done them quickly. It might take a while, but Calypso was sure she would be able to get out of them.

"What are you gonna do to me?" she heard Sam ask. She looked up to see Sam tied up, leaning on the wall, with the shapeshifter standing nearby.

"Oh, I'm not gonna do anything," the shapeshifter, now disguised as Dean, said. "Dean will though."

"They'll never catch him," Sam said confidently.

"Oh, doesn't matter," fake Dean said, sounding amused. "Murder in the first of his own brother? He'll be hunted the rest of his life." He picked up and examined a sharp knife, then turned around to see Calypso. "Good morning Callie," he said. "How's it, ah, hanging?"

"I hate you," she said ferociously.

"We have time to change that," the shapeshifter said seductively.

"Oh hell no!"

"And how would you stop me?" fake Dean asked, walking towards her. Her breathing stopped. She didn't know.

"Leave Calypso alone!" Sam yelled.

"Why?" the shifter asked, turning to him. "We have some time I'd like to kill." He turned back to Calypso. "You better cooperate this time." the thing warned. He pulled back and laughed at her horrified face. "Oh, come on," he said, smirking. "I know you want it."

And he put his face into her neck, kissing it like an expert would. She had read stories before about how neck kisses gave girls butterflies in their stomachs and made them feel light and happy, but this was never the case for her. Whenever anyone had ever kissed her neck, those few awful times, it had felt possessive and heavy. This time was no exception, and all it did was bring her back.

Her eyes widened and she struggled to fight back the memories. She whimpered, her eyes filling up with tears as she locked gazes with Sam. She saw pain in his eyes as he looked away, unable to watch. She tried to go to her happy place, the woods behind the park, but she couldn't. For some reason, it wouldn't work this time. The shapeshifter dug its face deeper into her neck, wrapping its arms around her. She looked up into the light right above her.

_Please, just let it be over quickly._ she thought to herself. If it was fast, her memories wouldn't catch up with the moment.

That all changed when she felt hands go up her shirt. She let out a small cry, trying to muffle herself as much as possible for Sam's sake. Dean would be there soon. He had to be. She wasn't strong enough to face this.

Rip. It was a sudden, startling sound, accompanied by a rush of cool air on her back. She whimpered. Her shirt was literally being torn off. It didn't take very long, either. It was a cheap shirt, made of cheap fabric. And, suddenly, all she was wearing on the top half of her body was her white bra.

The shapeshifter didn't care at all. He dropped the remnants of Calypso's shirt onto the ground, and looked at her body. He laughed.

"Wow," the shapeshifter said. "I never figured you'd do that to yourself."

As Calypso shivered and cried from fright, she saw Sam's curiosity get the best of him. He looked up to see what the shapeshifter was talking about, and his heart stopped when he saw the angry red lines crossing every which way on Calypso's body. She looked away from him, disgusted with herself. She was going to tell him and Dean eventually, but this wasn't the way she was planning on doing it.

Fake Dean didn't seem to mind the cuts, and went right back to Calypso's neck. That was all it took to break the barrier.

She wasn't in Becky's house anymore. Instead she saw the stained stone walls and red eyes staring down at her, drinking in her pain. A wicked smile opened wide, laughing at her desperate screams and cries. Greedy hands felt all over her body, their sole purpose to bring her pain and humiliation.

"Don't!" she screamed, thrashing around, transported back to her ten year old self. "Please!" She began to sob desperately. Fake Dean stepped back, just as surprised as Sam was. "Not again! Please, NOT AGAIN! PLEASE!" Even with nobody touching her, she continued to scream and sob, living in a different moment than everyone else. And no matter how much she screamed and thrashed, the panic, the pain, wouldn't stop. There was no escaping her memories. She let herself go limp and sob until it was all over.

But it was never over. Not for her.

"Don't!" Sam heard Calypso scream. He tried to drown out the sound of her misery, but it just kept piercing his mind until it was the only thing he could hear. He was still trying to wrap his head around the idea that Calypso, sweet, innocent, happy Calypso would do such awful things to herself. She had always seemed the happiest of the three, the most alive. And she always tried to spread that happiness to him and Dean, and everyone they encountered. It didn't make sense to him. "Please! Not again!" Sam's heart stopped and he looked up at Calypso for the first time since he saw what she did to herself. The shapeshifter had backed away from Calypso, who was thrashing around and sobbing. Her eyes darted around the kitchen wildly, but Sam didn't think she was seeing it. "Please, NOT AGAIN!" Calypso sobbed. Not again... Did this happen to her before? "PLEASE!" she screamed desperately, one last time. Sam's protective instinct came forward.

"What did you do to her?!" Sam yelled over her screams, enraged.

The shapeshifter turned to him and laughed.

"I guess Callie has a weakness after all," it said. "Dean wasn't completely sure. Nice to know she can break... If you know what parts to press."

Sam watched in horror as Calypso suddenly stopped screaming and went limp, her head down, still sobbing loudly.

And there was nothing he could do.

It was a little while later when Calypso's flashback was over, and she was back to the current time, still crying and feeling the after effects of her memories.

"I must say, I will be sorry to lose this skin," she groggily heard the shapeshifter say. "Your brother's got a lot of good qualities. You should appreciate him more than you do." She heard the splash of a liquid into a glass. Calypso tugged at the ropes, crying softly. They were looser, probably from all the movement that just happened. "Cheers." There was the thud of a knife into a hard surface. Maybe the pool table in the living room? She looked up in time to see Sam kick the shapeshifter down and cut himself free using the knife that was stuck in the pool table.

Calypso worked at the ropes even harder, feeling a liquid drip down her arm and a burn around her wrists. She whimpered, and wasn't surprised that neither Sam nor the shapeshifter, now getting up, looked over at her. She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but she was certain that she did a lot of crying and whimpering during it. And she was sure it made her look weak.

She saw Sam take the knife from the table and swing it at the shapeshifter, who caught his arm in response and twisted it, causing Sam to fall.

"Oh, you son of a bitch," the shapeshifter said. Calypso worked even harder on the ropes, tugging and pulling, ignoring the sharp pain whenever she moved her wrists. "Not bad, little brother," she heard the shifter tell Sam, after lots of thuds and clunks. Calypso was too focused on getting free to watch the fight.

"You're not him," Sam spat out in reply.

She watched as they continued to fight and the shifter threw Sam into a bookshelf, which collapsed on top of him. It was at that moment that a final snap set Calypso free. She collapsed onto the ground.

_I could just lay here_. Calypso told herself. _Whatever happens happens. I can just let Sam do all the work_.

Yet, even as she told herself that, she stood up and ran into the other room, just in time to see the shapeshifter pin Sam to the ground and choke him.

"No!" she yelled hoarsely, running towards him. Sam wasn't going to die, not on her watch. The shifter stood up and she charged right into him, not thinking straight. She didn't even have her knife out. It wasn't surprising when the shapeshifter caught her, pulling her close to him.

"Oh come on, sweetheart," he said. She felt hands sliding up and down her bare back and tried to fight back, but it was no use. Tears were freshly falling down her face, but she tried to silence herself. She was weak. She had always been weak. "Don't be like that. Your friend, here, got in the way. You don't have to." She saw the shapeshifter lick his lips and made a small noise in the back of her throat as he yet again buried his face in her neck. She gave up on trying to keep quiet and let loose a few sobs.

"Hey!" Calypso heard Dean's voice yell. She felt herself get spun around to face him, seeing Dean, with Becky behind him, pointing a gun at the shapeshifter, now behind her. She felt a hand in her back pocket and froze as he took out her knife, then felt the pressure of it against her throat.

"Take one step closer and your deranged pet gets her throat slit open," the shifter threatened. Dean didn't move, his gun still aimed at where the shifter's heart would be, right behind Calypso's.

Calypso knew exactly what to do. She stomped on the shapeshifter's foot, causing him to grab a handful of her hair and forcibly tilted her head back.

"You asked for it, slut," the shapeshifter said.

"Calypso!" Dean yelled as the shifter brought down the blade, Calypso, oddly enough, smiling.

Nothing happened.

Yes, Calypso experienced the pain of how it would've felt to have her throat cut open, but the knife bounced off her as if she was a rock.

"What the-" the shapeshifter said, letting go of Calypso, who immediately collapsed onto the ground and curled up into a ball, concealing the parts of her that should have been covered up by a shirt.

The shapeshifter never got to finish his exclamation. As soon as Calypso was out of the way, Dean pulled the trigger, twice, making the shapeshifter jerk backwards onto the table, dead.

Calypso drowned everything out and cried. Yes, it seemed weak, but she didn't care anymore. She wasn't as strong as she made Sam and Dean think. That was just what she pretended to be. She put her head in the middle of the ball she made with her body and tried not to think about all those awful times.

"Callie?" she heard a gentle voice say. A hand was placed on her arm.

Nobody was expecting her to scream and jump back just from a hand placed on her arm, yet that was exactly what she did. She held her knees against her chest, covering herself up, and looked up warily at whoever touched her. An exhausted and bloody Sam looked at her in shock, frozen in the position that he was in when he had carefully touched her arm. He didn't understand that she couldn't have anyone touch her right now, not even Sam or Dean.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, tasting the salty tears that dripped into her mouth.

Sam and Dean were crouched in front of her, with Becky standing behind them, unsurely. The only expression she could see was that of shock.

"You didn't do anything wrong," Sam told her gently. "Are you okay?"

She slowly shook her head, trying to cover herself up as much as she possibly could. Dean seemed to notice and shrugged off his jacket, handing it to her.

"Put this on," he told her. She nodded and took the jacket, putting her arms through the sleeves. It was too big, since Dean was about eight inches taller than her, which might have been funny in different situation, but definitely not now.

"Thanks," she mumbled, pulling it tight across her body.

"What happened?" Dean asked her. She shook her head, determined not to let the memories get through again. He looked over at Sam, who shook his head as well. He would tell him later, as soon as Calypso was out of the room. "Could you tell us... How come you aren't dead right now?" he asked instead, sounding very confused.

"I can't die," Calypso said simply, her voice barely there. Sam and Dean shared a shocked glance, not expecting what she just said, and looked at Calypso again, seeing shame in her eyes. Why was she ashamed? She rolled up her right sleeve, displaying all those angry red lines going across her arm. Dean's eyes widened and he looked at Sam who was sadly shaking his head. "I've tried god knows how many times."

"Why?" was Sam's only response. She looked at him, the memories threatening to spill over again, and whimpered, holding her head. Sam needed to talk to Dean. "Bec, do you think Callie can borrow one of your shirts?"

Becky, still standing there, shocked, nodded. She stepped forward.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up," Becky said, holding out a hand to Calypso so that the girl could get up. Calypso slowly grabbed onto it, letting Sam and Dean see the bloody mess the ropes left on her wrist. She was pulled up and followed Becky out of the room, looking back only once. Then she was gone.

"What the hell happened?" Dean asked Sam. Sam was still looking at the place where Calypso left the room.

"The shapeshifter tried to... You know, make good on that promise he said before," Sam began to explain. "But then she started screaming and crying and... Dean, this happened to her before."

"Why would you think that?" Dean asked.

"Maybe because she was screaming, 'not again,' and having a flashback?" Sam suggested obviously. "She seemed to be seeing somewhere else, Dean. I just don't know where or what she was seeing."

"God," Dean said, horrified. "I can't believe it."

"Me neither," Sam admitted. "And she never seemed like the type to cut herself."

"She's a good actress," Dean said. He remembered all her lies she had told everyone she'd encountered while with them. He should've known that she was lying to him and Sam, too. "But why can't she die?"

Sam shook his head.

"She seems human, but a lot of creatures do," he said. "Maybe she isn't human, or not fully, at least."

"Can we just ask her?" Dean asked. "It would be a lot easier than looking it up behind her back."

"Yeah, it would, wouldn't it," they both heard a quiet voice say from across the room. They turned to see Calypso standing there, Becky hovering behind her. Calypso was wearing a dark blue shirt, and had picked up her jacket from the kitchen. She almost looked like herself again. "The only problem is, I have no clue if I'm human or not." She didn't seem bothered by them discussing her when she wasn't there. "Both my parents were, I think. But my mom could die. I can't."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look.

"Were you adopted?" Dean asked.

"No," she answered. "I look too much like my mom did to be adopted."

"When we find dad, we can ask him," Sam suggested. "He'll know."

"Yeah, I guess," Dean agreed.

"So, Calypso, could you just answer a couple questions to clear things up?" Sam asked gently. Seeing the hesitation on her face, he added, "You don't have to if you don't want to."

"No," Calypso said, taking a breath. "No, you deserve to know everything. As much as I can tell you right now, at least." She tried to collect herself, hugging her own body. "What do you want to know?"

"What happened with the shapeshifter... Did it happen before?" Sam asked, carefully choosing his words. Calypso's nails dug into her hand.

"Yeah," she said quietly, not able to bring herself to meet anyone's eyes. "Yeah, it happened before. But... Nobody was there to stop it that time." She looked up at Sam and Dean, who were looking right back at her, concerned.

"How come we never figured it out?" Sam asked, sounding like he was asking himself.

"You didn't think to look for signs," she said simply. "There always signs if you look hard enough. Do you remember ever casually touching me? Like a hug, or even a hand on the shoulder? I always pulled away. Always."

There was a pause.

"When did it happen?" Dean asked. Sam shot him a look.

"No, it's okay, Sam," Calypso told him. "You both deserve to know." She turned to Dean. "I was ten." she admitted, trying to be detached. "I... I didn't know what was happening... I just knew that it hurt really bad."

Sam and Dean stared at her, wide eyed. Ten? That's just awful. Sam turned to Dean, unsure what to say next. Dean looked at Calypso and noticed that the careful wall she had set up at the beginning of the conversation seemed to be crumbling. Her wide eyes were starting to tear up, her knuckles were turning white. He needed to change the course of the conversation.

"How did you know that you wouldn't be killed by the shapeshifter?" Dean asked. "You knew you couldn't kill yourself, but you couldn't have known that someone else couldn't kill you. That's possible, you know."

Calypso thought for a moment, surprised.

"To be honest, I didn't even think that," Calypso told him. "I just... Did what I had to."

Dean nodded.

"So you could've died there, and you just didn't think about it?" Sam asked.

"I was pretty sure I wasn't going to," Calypso told him honestly. "And even if I did, I've been trying to since I was seven. It would have been a relief."

"Seven?" Dean asked, taken completely by surprise. "You tried to commit suicide at seven?"

Calypso looked just as surprised as he did.

"My mom died the year before," she said, confused at why he was so shocked. "And I wasn't exactly accepted by anyone, at school or anywhere else. I tried for a year, but I couldn't do it. Why is that so surprising? And when killing myself didn't work, I tried the next best thing."

Self harm. Calypso hated the name. Yeah, technically she was hurting her body, but it was healing her spirit. Instead of being the mess she really was, she could hide it all, bottle it up inside. Nobody cared, anyway.

"Callie, that's not healthy," Sam told her. She looked at him strangely. "You could've told your dad what was going on, or someone else even. They could've helped. Made you-"

"Stop," she interrupted, her voice quivering, her expression unusually expressive, showing fear and pain in their purest forms. They had gone too far into her background. She couldn't take it anymore. Sam and Dean understood, and stopped asking questions, regretful of what they had accidentally put Calypso through.

Yet, even with all the new information they had learned, they still knew almost nothing about Calypso's past.

The next day, they left. Calypso stood with Dean by the car, watching Sam say goodbye to Becky. Dean looked at a map, figuring out where to go next.

"You sure you're okay?" Dean asked her. She had been quiet all morning, unusual for her.

"Yeah," she said quietly. "I'm just sorting through some stuff in my head. I can't run forever, after all." She tilted her head slightly, deep in thought. "Is it okay to ask what you felt after your mom died?"

"Yeah, sure," Dean said. "I really don't remember much, but I was scared for a while. Nightmares and stuff. I think I was in shock. But it went away after a while." He looked at her carefully. "Why do you want to know?"

"It's just that bad memories have been resurfacing, and I really don't know why. I wanted to compare my reaction to my mom's death with somebody else's, since mine wasn't exactly healthy. Trust me, I know that. It was just the best option." She looked at the ground. "Nobody comforted me after Mom was killed. I think they secretly blamed me for her death." Calypso kicked a pebble. "She was one of those people that everyone adored, but I was always shunted aside, you know? Just ignored." She laughed. "I never really minded, you know. Mom adored me. I was like her little princess. I could tell her anything and she would always listen. But after she died and I really needed someone to talk to, nobody was there. Nobody would listen to me. And I couldn't tell anyone how I felt. Everything just bottled up in one person... It was only a matter of time before I lost it." She turned to look Dean in the eye, trying to be brave. "What I do to myself... I know it's wrong. But it keeps me grounded and sane. Without it, I don't know what I'd do." She laughed softly. "I have no clue why I'm telling you this. Maybe I'm trying to say that I'm not doing this for attention. I wasn't going to tell you and Sam until it was over. But I guess stuff happens." She smiled. "Honestly, I'm happier with you two than I've been in a long time."

Dean didn't know how to respond to her story. Calypso clearly didn't expect him to, since she got in the car not two seconds later. Sam wandered over almost immediately after that, getting in the car again. Dean started the engine and drove off.

"You know, Callie," Sam began, "I forgot to ask. Why did you freak a little when the police got us?"

"Oh, yeah," she said, her voice emotionless. "That." She looked out the window. "I'm gonna say this once, so listen closely. And I don't think I can do questions, so don't bother, okay?" She saw both Sam and Dean nod. "I ran away," she told them quickly and bluntly, like ripping off a band aid. "I don't think anyone ever told the police, but I'm not sure. The whole purple eyes thing is a dead giveaway, and I did not want to be sent back."

Sam and Dean looked at each other, then back out the window. Though they were full of questions, Calypso told them not to ask any, meaning those memories were too painful. So instead they drove on in silence.

Calypso was glad to leave St. Louis behind.


	5. Chapter 5

"Well, that was fun!" Calypso laughed, covered in blood, as she, Sam, and Dean walked into their motel room. "The ghoul didn't even see it coming!"

Sam laughed as Calypso went to wash her face in the bathroom. She hadn't been the one to kill the ghoul, Sam and Dean had done that together by shooting it in the head, but she didn't realize its blood would spray all over her, since she was the bait. As Sam and Dean watched, all dry and clean, Calypso was given a nice shower of ghoul blood. It wasn't very pleasant.

"Looks like we're done here," Dean said, shrugging his jacket off and throwing it on the bed. He sat down on the edge of it. "I say we get some sleep and hit the road in the morning."

Sam agreed to the plan, but Calypso stayed quiet as she exited the bathroom, her face all clean. She looked down at the ground, her hands clasped together behind her back.

"But... Couldn't we stay a couple days?" Calypso asked shyly.

"Why?" Dean asked, confused. "We're done with the job here."

Calypso laughed shrilly, refusing to look at Sam or Dean, but refused to say anything. The pair exchanged a questioning glance as Sam raised a glass of water to his lips. She finally sighed in defeat.

"I... I, uh, kind of have... A, um, date?" Calypso stuttered quietly, unable to look up from the ground.

"You have WHAT?!" Dean asked, standing up while Sam choked on the water he was drinking. She looked up sheepishly, a bright red slowly creeping up her round cheeks.

"I was going to tell you, but then you both tracked down the ghoul and I didn't have time!" Calypso explained quickly, her up in a calming gesture.

"When was this?" Sam asked. He was surprised that she said yes to a date. For the past week she had still been recovering from her encounter with the shapeshifter, and tried to avoid as much talking as possible. She barely spoke to Sam and Dean now, much less strangers.

"It was a couple days ago," Calypso told him, excitement clear on her voice. "Remember how you two were looking at corpses at the morgue and wouldn't allow me to come? I walked to the bookstore down the street and was just looking through some Harry Potter books, and so was he. We started talking... And he asked me out."

She remembered the moment fondly.

_Her fingers skimmed over the covers of all the available Harry Potter books, absorbing the atmosphere of the large book store. She breathed in contently, smelling the aroma of new paperbacks, and the scent of coffee drifted around from the coffee shop at the entrance. Her hand settled on her favorite of the series, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. Her mom had given it to her after a business trip to England, just a few months before she died, but Calypso had left it behind when she ran away. Even so, she could still recite the first few chapters by heart._

_"You have a great taste in books," a low, husky voice spoke from behind her. She turned around, muscles tensing up, to see a young man with dark blonde hair and blue eyes smiling charmingly. He laughed at her sensitive reaction. "Sorry to startle you. I couldn't help but comment on the Harry Potter books. They're my favorite series, after all."_

_Calypso smiled and nodded politely._

_"Mine too," she told him, though her voice was just barely above a whisper. His eyes lit up._

_"Have you read all of them?" he asked eagerly. Calypso nodded hesitantly. "Which was your favorite?"_

_"I like the first one," she told him, still in a hushed tone of voice. "Harry went from this really awful life to a great place and everything got so much better. I just love the transition."_

_The boy nodded, his smile growing wider by the second._

_"I love that one, too!" he said. Calypso smiled unsurely and leaned up against the bookshelf. "Let me buy you a coffee," he offered, gesturing to the cafe._

_Calypso hesitated. Was this really a good idea? Most guys that she encountered before would trick her or humiliate her. She expected it. But maybe she needed to trust a little bit more. The boy seemed friendly and open. Anyway, it was a public place. What could he possibly do to her here?_

_"Sure," she replied quietly, a shy smile on her face._

_"Great!" They began to walk to the coffee shop together. "My name's Mason." Calypso looked into his eyes and got lost in the deep blue._

_"Calypso," she told him breathlessly._

_They talked for hours about books and small things, then she got a text from Sam saying that he and Dean were there to pick her up. She sighed and got up._

_"I have to go," she told Mason sadly. She had a wonderful time with him. "My ride's here." Mason sighed, then looked up hopefully._

_"Hey, do you want to go out on Tuesday?" he asked her quickly, standing up. She stared up at him, not sure what he was really asking. Mason grinned. "You know, like a date?"_

_Calypso's breath had caught in her throat. She really liked Mason, but what if she was gone, left town, before the date? But Sam and Dean might stay if she told them. She knew they probably wouldn't like it, but she could convince them. Yes, that was what she would do._

_"Sure!" she agreed with a wide grin._

_"Great!" Mason said, quickly scribbling something on a piece of paper. "Here's my number. Call me and I'll tell you the details." He lingered, his hand pressing the paper into her hand for much longer than what would be usual. She looked up at him, eyes wide and her breath caught in her throat as he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. She froze for a long moment and she felt his mouth curl up into a smile. Dazed, Calypso slowly shut her eyes for the duration of the short kiss. When Mason pulled back, he smiled, eyes shining._

_Calypso now knew why the girls in books always longed for another kiss. There wasn't just the feeling of being wanted, but the sparks that flew. It made her want to beg for another. But instead she beamed as Mason looked down at his feet and scratched the back of his neck._

_"Wow," Calypso said quietly, the smile not leaving her face. She just had her first kiss. How did that happen?_

_"I guess I'll see you on Tuesday, then," Mason confirmed, smiling just as widely as she was._

_"Yeah," Calypso agreed breathlessly. "Definitely."_

_She began walking towards the door. "Bye, Calypso!"_

_She turned around and smiled, worry free for once._

_"See you later, Mason!" she said back._

_Calypso called him later that night and he told her where they were going. It was a fancy restaurant half an hour away, in the middle of town, and she was supposed to wear a white dress to go with the theme. She smiled and agreed, feeling like she was the princess in her own little fairy tale. She was so happy that she forgot to ask why she needed to wear a white dress. They talked for a little while longer on the phone until Sam came outside to look for Calypso and she hastily said goodbye and hung up before she went back inside._

She hadn't told Sam and Dean that night, or even the night after that. She didn't really want to tell them, since she was almost sure that they wouldn't let her go. But she told them now, excited for the first time in a while.

"And you just agreed?" Sam asked, dumbfounded.

"Yeah, I mean..." Calypso responded dreamily, trailing off. "Mason was so nice."

"Wow," Dean said, eyebrows raised. "I never took you for the 'hopeless romantic,' type."

Her face hardened as she turned and glared at him.

"Shut up," she told him quickly, her normal, down to earth self again. "So... Can we stay a couple days? Just until we find another job to do?" she begged.

Sam and Dean looked at her, then at each other. Neither wanted to explain why this was a bad idea. They were definitely not going to let her go, but didn't have the nerve to say it. Finally, Sam began to speak.

"Look, Callie, I get that you want to go on a date with this Mason guy," he began to tell her gently. "It's just, we won't be staying here long. Do you really want to get attached to him?"

Calypso nodded, smiling.

"I know what you're thinking," she told him, waving the issue away. "I'm gonna fall in love with Mason and get heartbroken when we have to leave. But it's just one date!"

Sam and Dean exchanged a look again. Sam was softening, Dean could tell. He tried to give his brother the look, but he turned to Calypso before Dean could even blink.

"Fine, you can go out with Mason," Sam told her quickly. She smiled, excited, as Dean turned to Sam in disbelief. "But the day after your date, we're leaving." Her smile fell, but she nodded in agreement. Dean seemed to calm a bit at the compromise, but still despised the idea.

"Thanks," she told them. "I owe you one."

As she went to the bathroom to take a shower she heard Dean mutter, "Damn right you do."

The next day was a frenzy of activity for Calypso. First she realized she didn't have a white dress and made Sam and Dean drive her to mall. The latter would have happily stayed at the motel room, but Sam was not going to shop with Calypso alone.

"I don't like this side of her," Dean told Sam as they waited for her to finish up in the dressing room. He looked around the store, confused. Why were so many dresses in one place? "I like the whole 'hunt and kill,' part a lot more."

"Dean, be easy on her," Sam told him. He glanced at the dressing room door nervously, not wanting Calypso to walk out at that moment. "I think this is the first time she's been asked out."

"Right," Dean said sarcastically. "Every girl gets asked out during high school. Callie's a... Junior, right? And she's, you know, pretty." Dean sounded very awkward, even to himself. He was getting very protective of Calypso, and didn't like her and love anywhere near each other.

"Yeah, but don't you remember her saying she wasn't ever really accepted?" Sam asked. Dean nodded thoughtfully, thinking of the curiosity he had felt. But he had never pressured her into telling them anything.

"Great," he said sarcastically. "So we have a teenage girl on our hands, going on her first date. No wonder she's being so... Weird."

"She's excited, Dean."

Before Dean could say anything along the line of how girls were confusing, Calypso's dressing room door opened. She stepped out, a simple flowing white gown draping around her body. It was cut low enough to show off her collarbone, and ended just around the ankle. She looked down, unsure of it.

"Do you think it looks okay?" she asked hesitantly. Her right hand curled around her left elbow. "I have to have the long sleeves because... You know..."

"It looks fine," Sam told her while Dean rolled his eyes. "Can we buy it and go?"

She nodded, an unsure smile on her face.

"Sorry I took so long," she apologized, turning back to the dressing room. "I don't get to wear too many fancy dresses."

It took much less time for her to change back into her regular jeans and jacket. She rode back to the motel enthusiastically. Tomorrow night she would be on a date with sweet, book loving Mason.

"So, uh, get a good night's sleep, or whatever girls do before going out on a date," Dean told her, walking into the motel room. "But-"

He was cut off by the chiming of Calypso's ringtone. She smiled sheepishly and pulled it out of her pocket.

"Sorry!" she whispered, holding it up to her ear. "Hello?" Her smile grew quickly, listening to the person on the other end. "Hey Mason!" Her free hand found its way to her long black hair and twirled it around her finger absentmindedly. "Yeah, I totally have time to talk now!" She waved a goodbye to the Winchester boys, then walked out of the room again.

"Young love," Dean said, sarcasm thick on his voice. He frowned. "She hasn't even known him that long!"

Sam shrugged.

"Are you asking me how a teenage girl's mind works?" he asked, amused.

"Good point," Dean agreed. He looked at the door and shook his head. "They're weird, man. They're just weird."

Meanwhile, Calypso was outside, leaning against the wall, chatting eagerly with Mason. She felt a warmth in her chest, and the smile she had on never left her face.

"So, are we still on for tomorrow night?" Mason asked, his smooth voice obstructed by the phone's background noise.

"Yeah, definitely," Calypso replied quickly.

"Great! I can't wait to see what you look like!" he told her. "Knowing you, you'll be drop dead gorgeous."

She blushed, pink consuming her face.

"Aw..." she said, speechless. "Thanks... I'm sure you'll look very handsome yourself."

"So, I forgot to ask, where am I going to pick you up?" Mason asked. Calypso's content smile faded.

"Oh..." she said quietly. "I, uh..." Calypso looked up at the glowing motel sign above her head, biting the inside of her cheek. "I'm at the, uh, Blue Tree Motel..."

"What room number?" Mason asked without a pause. Calypso's heart swelled, jubilant at the fact that he wasn't bothered that she wasn't in a house or apartment.

"Thirteen," she answered more confidently.

"Oh, unlucky thirteen!" Mason teased in a light voice.

"Shut up!" Calypso told him, laughing. She heard his loud laughter from the other end joining hers.

"I gotta go," Mason told her after a comfortable pause. "My dinner just finished up in the microwave."

Calypso laughed, hearing a couple shrill beeps in the background of the call.

"Alright, I guess I'll see you tomorrow," Calypso told him, saddened that the call had to end so quickly.

"Bye!"

She hung up and sunk against the wall, a smile on her face. Mason was just wonderful. He was so sweet, such a gentleman, but also so funny that he made Calypso laugh for minutes at a time. Even the mention of him made her melt inside, but she did her best not to show it.

This was what falling in love was like. The butterflies in her stomach, the borderline obsession, the endless daydreams... It wasn't healthy, she knew, but she didn't care. He was her prince. She was his badass princess.

She was in love.

The next night, Calypso hurriedly got dressed in her outfit, putting her hair up and spending much too long on her makeup.

"How do I look?" Calypso asked Sam and Dean, both watching TV, as she emerged from the bathroom. They stared at her, speechless. She had added accessories to her simple dress to make it look even better, such as a gold belt at her waist. She'd put on gold bangles that made a cymbal-like sound whenever she moved her wrist, and her ever present locket was still placed around her neck. Her hair was put up in a messy bun at the nape of her neck, a few curly loose strands purposely framing her face. She had put on simple black eyeliner and mascara, accompanied by pale gold eyeshadow. Her lips were a shiny baby pink, and her usually pale cheeks had a little color to them.

She looked beautiful.

"Oh no, I'm not answering that," Dean said, looking away quickly, though his heart swelled with pride just looking at her. "You're just gonna say I'm lying. That's what girls do, right?"

Calypso rolled her beautifully decorated eyes.

"A simple, 'you look fine,' would've worked," Calypso told him. She turned to Sam, the skirt of her dress lifting up slightly as the wind went through it. "Is it too... Fancy?"

"No, you look beautiful," Sam told her, a lot more sensitive than Dean had been. "Mason isn't gonna know what hit him."

Calypso smiled shyly.

"Really?" she asked, her heart swelling.

"Really," Dean agreed, finally voicing his opinion. She smiled, then remembered something.

"Oh, I almost forgot," she said, reaching into her purse. She pulled out her silver knife and handed it to Dean. "I don't want to carry this with me. Not tonight."

"But Callie-"

"I won't need it, Dean," she insisted. "And I don't want it. Tomorrow I'll be a hunter searching the country for something to kill. Tonight, I'm just a normal girl going out on a date."

He reluctantly took the knife

_Knock knock_.

Calypso turned to the door, her heart threatening to jump out of her chest. She smiled, trying to regain her confidence and danced over to the door to slowly open it.

Her breath caught in her throat at how handsome Mason looked. He wore a black suit and tie, and his hair was slightly slicked back.

"Hi," Calypso said nervously.

"You look beautiful," Mason told her in awe. She looked down at her gold high heels, blushing.

Tearing his eyes off of her, he looked up to see Sam and Dean standing awkwardly a few feet behind Calypso.

"I'll have her back before ten," Mason promised.

"Good," Dean said roughly, crossing his arms. "We'll be waiting up."

"Alright then, Calypso, shall we get going?" Mason asked, unfazed by Dean, much to her surprise. She smiled and nodded silently.

"Have fun!" Sam called as Mason shut the door behind Calypso.

"But not too much fun," Dean muttered, turning to the television and watching a fascinating commercial about toothpaste. Anything that could keep his mind off of worrying about Calypso worked, really. Even though he only saw him for a moment, Dean didn't like Mason. He didn't trust him at all. He would be glad when they left the next day.

If they left the next day.

"So, this restaurant, I never asked what it was called," Calypso realized on their way to Mason's car. "And why do I have to wear white? I've never been to a restaurant that makes you wear a certain thing."

"It's called Quelque Chose Faite," Mason told her, taking out his keys and pressing the unlock button. A sleek black car made a small noise from a few parking spots away, accompanied by a quick flash of its headlights. "It's really popular. You and your date," he turned to her, grinning, "you both have to match."

Calypso looked down at her white dress, frowning, then up at Mason in his black suit as he opened his car door for her.

"But you're wearing black and I'm wearing white," Calypso pointed out, confused as she pulled the skirt of her dress up slightly as she climbed into the car. Mason closed her door, but she could hear him laughing as he walked around to get to the driver's seat. He got into the car and looked at her confused face for a moment, a dimpled smile upon his cheeks.

"Sorry for laughing," Mason told her politely. "I just thought that, as a girl, you'd understand the concept of matching colors and clothes more than I do."

"Oh," Calypso said thoughtfully, blushing and looking down at her hands clasped in her lap. "I'm not really that into fashion."

"Thank God," Mason told her, laughing. "I'm not either! But black and white is a theme, I think, so it should match. Mint?" Calypso's mouth curved upward into a half smile and she nodded, tasting the cool but oddly sweet taste against her tongue when she put it in her mouth. Mason started the car, and they drove in a comfortable silence for a couple minutes, music playing softly in the background. Calypso looked out the window and watched as trees flew by, darkness sliding in between them.

Wait. Trees? Weren't they heading into town? This was the opposite direction. And everything seemed to be flying by too fast. Were they speeding? Calypso couldn't tell. She was getting dizzy, much too dizzy to be going on a date. She opened her mouth to tell Mason that she wasn't feeling well, that maybe they should slow down or pull over, when her eyes drifted over to his feet.

Out of his shoe stuck a small knife handle.

Calypso wasn't too out of it to know what that meant. Her half shut eyes drifted up to Mason's face, seeing a cruel smirk take the place of his polite smile. Oh God. Calypso felt nauseous. What was going on?

"Feeling a little... Sick, Calypso?" Mason asked, turning to make eye contact. "Yeah, these drugs will do that to you." He held up his container of "mints," shaking them tauntingly. "So, uh, date was canceled. I have some revenge to get." He laughed as Calypso stared, feeling as though she might throw up.

But she didn't have time for feeling anything. She needed to get as far away from Mason as possible before she passed out. Her hand slid over the door, trying desperately to find the handle to open it with. Where was it? Why was everything spinning? She felt something jutting out from the door and pulled on it, panicked, then shoved her full weight against the door.

"No!" Mason yelled, reaching out with one hand to grab her as she tore her seatbelt off and jumped from a car going about ninety miles per hour. She flew through the air and landed hard, rolling a couple of times, but she didn't give herself the option of blacking out from the pain and act that would kill a normal person. Instead she climbed unsteadily onto her feet, gasping as she heard Mason's car screech to a stop.

Calypso ran, knowing her perfect dress was now ripped to shreds, her hair hanging in a mess around her face. Her perfect look was gone. She dodged trees and bushes that appeared randomly, panicking as she tried to get away. She could feel herself crying, and the odd thought, _My mascara must look awful,_ was the only thing that was on her mind. Everything started spinning so much faster than before, but Calypso kept running, sprinting.

Then the heel of her shoe got caught on a tree root. With a yelp, she tumbled onto the ground and knew she didn't have enough strength to pick herself up. She closed her eyes and waited for him to find her.

He did, and she heard his footsteps not thirty seconds later.

"My, my, Calypso," his voice, now too smooth, too persuasive, said. "Running never does any good."

"What... Are... You?" Calypso asked, struggling against the drug, but losing the battle.

As she succumbed to the dark, she heard his spine chilling whisper.

"I'm the destruction of the Winchesters."

"Where is she?" Dean asked Sam as they looked at the clock, anxiously waiting for Calypso to come back. "She was supposed to be here half an hour ago!"

Sam shrugged, sitting on the bed, lost in thought.

"I didn't like that Mason guy," Sam told his brother. "Did you?"

"No," Dean replied bluntly. "He was too polished." He kicked the bed angrily, creating a loud _thunk_. "I knew I shouldn't have let Calypso go with him!"

"Dean, relax," Sam said. "I'm sure she'll be back soon."

But he didn't sound certain.

"Sam?" a muffled voice said from the corner, sounding scared and confused. The brothers turned around quickly. They'd know Calypso's voice anywhere. But why was it coming from Sam's laptop? "Dean? Anyone?"

Dean got up quickly and snatched the computer from the bedside table, bringing it to the desk in the front of the room. Sam jumped up to join him. Dean opened the computer without a thought and the screen already had something on it, making both Sam and Dean freeze.

"Oh, God, no..." Dean said quietly,

"Hello?" a torn up and bloody Calypso yelled as she tried to use the rusty iron bars of the cage she was in to stand up, surrounded by hundreds of trees. Her face was all scraped up, and her once beautiful dress was a bunch of dirty rags wrapped around her body. Mascara, eyeshadow, and lipstick were smudged all over her face, making her hour makeup session completely useless. In short, she looked like hell.

"What-" Sam began to ask, cutting himself off. It wasn't as if Dean knew what was going on, or if Calypso could hear him in the video on the computer.

"Nobody's in this neck of the woods, darling," a familiar voice drawled, off camera.

"Mason," Dean growled. "I'm-I'm gonna kill that son of a-"

"Dean," Sam interrupted, watching Calypso's reaction, her face turning from fear and confusion to anger and betrayal, then to a blank slate.

"You know, Calypso," Mason began. "From all that talk about you drifting around, you really disappoint. I thought you'd be smarter, faster-"

"You try running in heels you're breaking in," Calypso interrupted, confidence in her voice. "It's harder than it looks."

Dean smirked.

_That's my girl_, he thought proudly.

"Oh, Calypso," Mason laughed. "You sassy little bitch."

Sam's fist clenched.

"Wow, name calling?" Calypso said, sarcasm thick on her voice. "Gee, you really hurt my feelings."

"You know, I could go on all day," Mason told her. "But don't you want to know why you're in this little predicament?"

Calypso glared at him and the brothers could almost feel the anger radiating off of the scalding look.

Mason laughed.

"I take that as a yes," he said, his laugh stopping as quickly as it started. "I had a sister," he told her, no trace of joking in his voice. "We did everything together, we were never separated. That is, until your little group came to town."

"He's a ghoul," Sam said, putting the pieces together. The killings that happened here before they killed the other ghoul were so close together, it would make sense that two were there instead of one. They had just never considered it. He and Dean exchanged a horrified look. They had let Calypso just walk into a trap without thinking. How could they have been so stupid?

"I watched your precious Winchester boys shoot her," Mason said softly. "I WATCHED IT!" Calypso looked around, worried, and her eyes lingered over the camera, seeming to notice it. "And at that moment I made a plan. A plan to kill their sister. You." Dean drew in a sharp breath while Sam clicked around on the computer, trying to find a way to track where the camera was filming.

"But I'm not related to them," Calypso told Mason, seeing an obvious flaw in his logic.

"Perhaps not by blood, but you, Calypso, are just as much a part of their family as their father is, perhaps more," Mason explained. "And, of course, there is one other little problem."

"You can't kill me," Calypso said, her eyes sparking defiantly.

"But there are things much worse than death, dear," Mason told her, and Dean could hear the grin on his face. "Imagine the Winchester boys driving themselves to madness looking for you, all while hearing your desperate screams."

Sam's breath got caught in his throat. He was getting nowhere on the location, and things were getting worse by the second.

"Oh, please, spare the details," Calypso told him sarcastically. "And you think torture is original? Old fashioned much?"

"Maybe not original, but still excruciatingly painful," Mason said. "I'm a genius, if I do say so myself. I can hack computers, do college level math problems in a second, and find new, even more painful ways of torture." He laughed, but instead of sounding carefully composed like usual, the cackling was unrestrained and... Crazy. "The Winchesters took my sister away from me. I'm taking theirs away from them."

"I can't watch this," Dean said abruptly, getting up. "We have to find her."

"I'm trying to find the location, it's just not working, Dean," Sam said, looking up. His eyes were wide with fear. "There's nothing we can do."

"Then we tear down all the forests around here until we find her!" Dean roared.

"This is exactly what he's trying to make us do, Dean!" Sam protested. "I want to storm out there and find Callie just as much as you do, but we need to keep our heads."

"She's getting tortured, Sam!" Dean pointed out.

"I know," Sam told him, struggling with what to do. He stood up. "There might be a way to do this from the car to point us in the right direction, wherever the signal is strongest."

"Good," Dean said, jumping up and running out the door. "We have to go find her, now!"

"Yeah," Sam said, picking up his laptop. "I just don't... How long can she hold out?"

"Hopefully long enough."

Calypso looked around her cage for a weak spot, the things she knew about ghouls running through her head. The Winchesters told her a little bit when they realized that she had had no clue about what they were talking about when they first got into town. She knew that ghouls could only be killed by taking their heads off, or destroying them in some way. She also knew that ghouls ate humans, usually already dead ones, and took on their last meals appearance and memories. That meant that Mason ate some poor guy that looked just like that, and took his good looks. Even the thought of it made her nauseous.

"They're not going to look for me, you know," Calypso told Mason, glancing up at the camera, hoping that Sam and Dean would catch her message. She didn't want them to find her. It was too dangerous. They needed to move on. Hell, she needed to, too. She knew she was only a temporary part of their life, a speck of dust. She wouldn't let herself become any more than that. "They aren't that stupid. I'm not worth fighting for."

"You have a very low opinion of yourself, Calypso," Mason observed, his back to her.

"Well there's not much worth saving, is there," she told him. "I'm nothing special. Just another pathetic teenage girl."

Mason laughed while Calypso looked around for some sort of landmark to help determine where she was. All she could see were trees, packed so closely together that there was almost no sunlight reaching the ground. She remembered passing by a forest like this on her way into town. What was it called? She couldn't remember. But she forced herself to.

She shut her eyes tight, trying to picture the map Sam had showed her as he was figuring out their route. The green part with the black line crossing through it had words, but they were fuzzy in her mind. She couldn't make them out. Then, as if something snapped in her brain, the words suddenly became perfectly clear.

_Ivory Forest._

Why it was called the Ivory Forest, she didn't understand. But she knew that was where she was. In a cage in the middle of the woods. Wonderful.

She looked up at the camera meaningfully while Mason still had his back towards her.

"Are you gonna wait much longer to ruin my ivory skin?" Calypso asked Mason sarcastically, with no emphasis on the word "ivory," so that she wouldn't call attention to it. Yet, as she said the word, she made a hand motion to exaggerate the meaning. If Sam and Dean were too stupid to figure that out, maybe she didn't want to be rescued by such idiots.

"Oh, don't worry," Mason told Calypso, turning to her with a long, sharp knife in his hand. "I'm getting started." He smiled, teeth seeming sharp as fangs. "You should enjoy this. After all, doesn't every girl want to die in a white dress?"

Mason stepped forward, unlatching the cage, the knife carefully positioned between them. Calypso looked at him warily. She wasn't strapped down. How could he be certain that she wasn't going to get away? She didn't dwell on it very long, since the next thing she knew, there was a sharp pain on the back of her head and she was pinned against the ground, Mason straddling her so she couldn't fight him off.

"Anything else you'd like to say?" he asked, outlining her now terrified face with the tip of the knife. She struggled futilely to get him off of her, but didn't succeed. She was all too familiar with everything that would come next.

"Yeah," Calypso spat out. "Screw you!"

Well, it may have been a word a bit stronger than "screw," but it didn't matter.

Mason didn't say a word as he inserted the knife into her side, making her gasp loudly in pain, her bruised skull seeming a lot more bearable now. But Mason didn't leave the knife there, hilt deep in her side, but dragged it through her skin until he made a perfectly straight line across her stomach. Calypso was screaming now, her hands thrashing out for something to grab on to, to pull on. But there was nothing around her except the frozen metal floor, slowly being filled with her blood.

"That's all you've got?" Calypso asked Mason fiercely after she regained her breath and got a hold of herself. "That's weak." She laughed weakly, but determinedly.

"Oh, Calypso," Mason said, sounding as if he was scolding a schoolgirl, using the knife to prove his point. "I have quite the imagination."

He did. After hours of him slicing at her, beating her bloody, and even biting pieces of her flesh off, Calypso had almost lost hope. Her voice was hoarse from screaming, her face wet with tears that had been shed, her body red from the blood pouring from her open wounds. And Sam and Dean hadn't shown up yet.

"The great thing about torturing someone who can't die is that you don't have to carefully calculate each move," Mason told Calypso, standing up and leaving her a heap on the ground.

Her eyes, only half opened, noticed he put the knife down only a little bit away from her right hand. "I can just torture freely, without thinking. It's... Relaxing." He walked out of the cage, picking something up from underneath a tree. Even though she was quite a distance away, Calypso knew it was a syringe. What it was filled with was a different story.

"This is djinn venom," Mason explained to her, walking back towards her cage. Her blood was bright crimson on that silver knife. "Of course, djinn only create happy circumstances in your mind, but I tinkered with it a little bit and created this little gem." He showed it off. "By injecting this into your body, I will force you to relive all of your worst memories." Calypso held her breath. This wasn't something she was familiar with, and she already knew she wasn't going to make it out okay, not at all.

He walked back into the cage, crouching down next to her, the syringe in his hand nearing her neck. Calypso glared up at him, anger taking control of her. It took only a second, but Calypso's hand quickly reached out and wrapped around the bloodstained handle of the blade, then swung it up at Mason, snarling. She shakily stood up, her anger fueling her strength. He backed up, his surprise showing in his eyes as she sliced the knife through the air at him over and over again. Calypso forced him to back out of the cage, her ferocity frightening even her. She knew she had the upper hand. She had the knife. Mason was unarmed, except for the syringe, which wouldn't do any good. Calypso was winning.

She forced him to back up against a thick tree trunk, then lunged forward, pressing the knife against his throat.

And she froze, staring down at Mason's frightened face.

Sensing her hesitation, Mason laughed.

"You can't kill me, can you?" Mason said, watching her face melt from anger to pathetic, sad confusion. "You want to, but you can't bring yourself to do it." Calypso looked into his laughing eyes, longing for the old Mason, the sweet, funny Mason. "You want to know why?" he asked while Calypso tried to make herself dig the knife into his skin. "You're still in love with me."

"Yeah, well, luckily I'm not," a familiar deep voice said from behind Calypso. Her eyes brightened and, without thinking, she lowered the knife and whirled around, her eyes shining hopefully.

"Dean!" she exclaimed, seeing him a few trees away, a gun in his hand. Sam was standing next to him, holding the same type of weapon. "Sa-AH!"

Mason had stuck the syringe into her neck and pressed down. Calypso's eyes widened in shock and a whimper came off her lips. She saw Sam and Dean running towards her, their mouths open in a yell that she couldn't hear, as she sank to the ground, her vision swimming in front of her eyes. Flashes of awful memories took their turns being featured in her mind, the periods of reality in between them becoming shorter each time.

The last thing she saw before losing her sanity was Mason's laughing face.

"Callie!" Dean roared, sprinting forward as the girl fell to the ground, a shocked expression on her face. Mason laughed, his head tilting back towards the top of the trees, but it didn't last long. Dean barreled right into him, knocking the ghoul to the ground. He barely heard Calypso screaming through the blood pumping in his ears, the anger taking over his mind. Sam raced to Calypso, but it was clear that there was nothing he could do. He clenched his fists.

"I'm gonna kill you," Dean heard his brother tell the ghoul from next to Calypso. Sam got up and stalked towards Mason. "I'm going to rip you to shreds!"

Mason laughed.

"It doesn't matter if you kill me," he told Sam, smiling even as he laid on the ground, defenseless. "I've already won. Do you think she's going to be the same after this?"

Sam and Dean exchanged furious glances and they both pulled the trigger of their guns, their minds in sync. Mason didn't make any more smart remarks.

The brothers wasted no time before jumping up and running towards Calypso, who was still thrashing and screaming at the top of her lungs. They knelt down next to her bloodied figure, unsure what to do. She wasn't seeing them, she was seeing something else. Something much worse.

"Calypso, it's not real!" Sam yelled over her screams and sobs. She gave no sign that she heard him. "Calypso-" An especially loud scream interrupted him. He turned to Dean, not sure what to do. Dean's green eyes flitted from Calypso to Sam, then back again.

Dean didn't have any clue about what was going on or how to stop it. He looked at the pitiful figure on the ground and pulled her up against him in a tight embrace, his right hand stroking her hair gently. Sam looked at his brother strangely, but Dean shrugged. What else was he supposed to do? Maybe having someone holding her would snap Calypso out of it.

"Callie, it isn't real," Dean said over her still present screams. "None of it, none of what you're seeing is real. Sam and I are here, we got you." He looked over at Sam for help.

"Come on, Callie, it's okay," Sam said. Calypso's screams lessened slightly and she began to blink confusedly.

"It's not real," Dean told her softly, keeping her head on his shoulder.

Their combined efforts seemed to calm Calypso down, and her screams suddenly stopped. She slumped against Dean, exhausted.

"Sam?" she asked, looking up, her voice cracked and weak. "Dean?"

"Yeah, we're here, don't worry," Sam told her gently. "Careful, you're still pretty weak."

"I-I'm sorry," Calypso cried, breaking off into sobs again.

"Hey, don't say that," Dean told her, still stroking her hair comfortingly. She threw her arms around him and cried into his jacket, feeling the warmth of his body contrasting with the cold of hers. "Don't worry, we got you." Dean carefully held her even closer, trying to make her realize that she was okay, that she wasn't alone. "We got you. Nothing's going to happen to you when we're around. Promise."

Then it struck him. Calypso was letting him and Sam hold her without freaking out and pulling away. She had never done that before. It was a sign of trust, of love. And, even with all the awful things that had happened, they had never felt closer.

That was the moment Calypso truly became their little sister.

**Just so you know, the whole thing with Calypso falling in love after just meeting Mason was to show that she doesn't understand what love is or what it does. I know that falling in love isn't like that, so I'm not stupid, I'm just trying to show a bit more about the character. Just wanted to make sure you got that!**


	6. Chapter 6

It was a week later that the Winchesters decided it was time to search for another job. Calypso was initially reluctant to join them, but eventually, after days of them begging, she agreed. The brothers didn't know if it was a good idea. She'd been acting strange ever since Mason, and Sam and Dean didn't have any clue how to comfort her. It hadn't exactly been a normal heartbreak, after all. She wasn't eating tubs of ice cream or anything, she was just eerily quiet. Which Sam and Dean both understood, of course. They had both heard her get tortured, even if they had refused to watch it happen. Calypso hadn't been the same since. Still, they thought maybe it would be a good idea to get her mind off of Mason and move onto something else.

"All right," Dean said while on the computer, searching for possible cases. Calypso looked up, sitting on the ground idly while she heard the continual scratch of Sam's pencil. When she looked over, she thought the thing he was drawing could be a tree, but wasn't completely sure. She didn't ask. She couldn't bring herself to speak. "I've been cruisin' some websites. I think I found a few candidates for our next gig." Dean took a sip of coffee. "A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali – its crew vanished. And, uh, we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas." Sam continued to draw as if he didn't hear Dean, who looked up and noticed that his brother didn't seem to be paying attention. "Hey." Sam tore his eyes off of the drawing and looked up at Dean. "Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?"

"No," Sam told him. "I'm listening. Keep going."

"And, here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times." Dean waved his arm in front of Sam's concentrated face from the table he was sitting at, trying to get Sam's attention. Calypso half smiled when Sam didn't even look up. "Any of these things blowin' up your skirt, pal?"

There was a pause as Sam stopped drawing and looked at the picture he created.

"Wait," he said, as if he hadn't even heard Dean. "I've seen this before."

"Seen what?" Dean asked Sam, who got up off the bed and searched through his duffel bag. He brought the journal back to the bed, and pulled something out of it. "What are you doing?"

Calypso got up carefully and stepped towards Sam. She couldn't see what she was doing from where she was standing, but she could tell by his posture that it was something urgent.

"Dean," Sam said, sounding stunned. "I know where we have to go next."

Calypso exchanged a baffled look with Dean. What was he talking about?

"Where?" Dean asked.

"Back home," Sam answered. "Back to Kansas."

"Okay, random," Dean told him. "Where'd that come from?"

Sam stepped forward and showed Dean a photo that Calypso only caught a quick glimpse of. She just made out a blonde haired woman and a dark haired man as well as what seemed to be their two children, but she couldn't tell individual features.

"All right, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right?" Sam clarified. "The house where Mom died?"

"Yeah," Dean answered, clearly confused by what Sam was asking.

"And it didn't burn down, right?" Sam asked. "I mean, not completely, they rebuilt it, right?"

"I guess so, yeah," Dean said. Calypso looked between the two of them, unsure of what was going on. "What the hell are you talkin' about?"

"Okay, look, this is gonna sound crazy but… the people who live in our old house – I think they might be in danger," Sam explained. Calypso looked at him strangely. Why would he think that?

"Why would you think that?" Dean asked, beating her to the question.

"Uh…it's just, um….look, just trust me on this, okay?" Sam told him, getting up and walking away quickly. Dean followed him, Calypso a few feet behind.

"Wait, whoa, whoa, trust you?" Dean asked disbelievingly.

"Yeah."

"Come on, man, that's weak," Dean told his brother. Calypso agreed with him. Sam couldn't just tell them what he thought, he had to add why he thought it. Otherwise, what did they have to go on? Sam began packing things into his bag as Calypso stood beside him, confused. "You gotta give me a little bit more than that."

"I can't really explain it is all," Sam claimed. Calypso didn't believe him. It was clear he was hiding something, she just didn't know what.

"We're not going anywhere until you do," Calypso told him, confident but quiet. Sam stared at her, taken aback. She hadn't contributed to conversations since Mason, only listening and answering questions when needed. Maybe she was making progress.

Sam sighed while Dean and Calypso waited, debating in his head whether or not to tell them.

"I have these nightmares," Sam told them hesitantly.

"We've noticed," Dean pointed out with a nod.

"And sometimes..." Sam began, even more hesitant than before. "They come true."

Silence.

"Come again?" Dean questioned, taken aback.

"Like mine?" Calypso asked quietly, though she knew she hadn't had any more dreams since she met the brothers.

"No," Sam replied quietly. "The dreams happen before they come true, not at the same time."

"Oh," Calypso said, disappointed that Sam wasn't like her. Then again, she already came to terms with the fact that nobody was.

"What did you see in the last one?" Dean asked, clearly worried. "I'm sure it was just a weird dream or something."

"Look, Dean..." Sam began. "I dreamt about Jessica's death – for days before it happened."

"Sam, people have weird dreams, man," Dean told him as he sat down on the bed. "I'm sure it's just a coincidence."

"No, I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn't do anything about it 'cause I didn't believe it," Sam confessed, panicking. "And now I'm dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that's where it all started, man, this has to mean something, right?"

"I don't know," Dean told him, overwhelmed. Calypso, on the other hand, was surprised, but the news didn't shock her. She knew Sam was keeping a secret, she just didn't think it was something this big.

"What do you mean you don't know, Dean?" Sam asked, sitting across from him. "This woman might be in danger. I mean, this might even be the thing that killed Mom and Jessica!"

"All right, just slow down, would ya?" Dean asked. He stood up quickly and began pacing. "I mean, first you tell me that you've got the Shining? And then you tell me that I've gotta go back home? Especially when…"

"When what?" Sam asked gently.

"When I swore to myself that I'd never go back there?" Dean finished, turning his back towards Sam and Calypso.

"Look, Dean, we have to check this out," Sam told him softly. "Just to make sure."

Dean turned his head to look at his brother, his eyes desperately showing that he would do anything not to go back to his childhood home. Calypso understood, of course. She wouldn't go back to her house for her life. Some things are best left alone.

"I know we do."

When they visited Sam and Dean's past house, the new owner, Jenny, unknowingly told them about signs of a malevolent spirit and her daughter complained about the monster in her closet. The one that was on fire.

Upon hearing this Calypso looked up at Sam and Dean, but didn't expect them to look so shocked. What had happened to their mother? Calypso still didn't know. All she knew was that a supernatural being killed her. Could this be it?

"You hear that?" Sam asked Dean as they walked back to the car quickly, almost panicked. "A figure on fire."

"And that woman, Jenny, that was the woman in your dreams?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Sam said. "And you hear what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering lights, both signs of a malevolent spirit."

"Yeah, well I'm just freaked out that your weirdo visions are comin' true," Dean told him. "I mean, from Callie it's one thing, but from you?"

Calypso looked back at the house, trying to envision what happened to Sam and Dean on that night. She knew it involved fire and death, but nothing else. Neither Sam nor Dean would tell her anything about it and she didn't ask, not wanting to pry.

"Well, forget about that for a minute," Sam told him, freaking out. "The thing in the house, do you think it's the thing that killed Mom and Jessica?"

"I don't know," Dean told him. Calypso looked between the two, concerned. They were getting ahead of themselves.

"Well, I mean, has it come back or has it been here the whole time?" Sam asked as they stopped by the car.

"Don't get your hopes up," Calypso warned. "It might be something else."

"Well, those people are in danger, either way," Sam said. "We have to get 'em out of that house."

"And we will," Dean told him, moving towards the front seat.

"No, I mean now," Sam said persistently, causing Dean to stop and turn back around.

"And how you gonna do that, huh?" Dean asked sensibly. "You got a story that she's gonna believe?"

"Then what are we supposed to do?" Sam pointed out.

Calypso thought about it. What were they supposed to do? Treat it like a normal case? It wasn't. Not for the Winchesters, anyway.

They made a quick stop for gas as they mulled everything over.

"We just gotta chill out, that's all." Dean told Sam, pumping gas into the car while his brother stood, fidgeting, outside the passenger side. Calypso was leaning against her normal side, behind the driver, saying nothing. "You know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do?"

Sam tried to stop moving and sighed, unclenching his hands. There was a small pause.

"We'd try to figure out what we were dealin' with," Sam answered, walking towards Dean and the back of the car. "We'd dig into the history of the house."

"Exactly, except this time, we already know what happened," Dean told him.

"I don't," Calypso finally pointed out, turning towards the two of them. "I don't know anything about what happened."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look. She knew that they probably didn't want to talk about it, but this was information she now needed, not just something she was curious about.

"How much do you remember, or remember being told?" she asked.

"Not much," Dean told her. "I remember the fire... The heat." He turned to look at Sam. "And then I carried you out the front door."

"You did?" his brother asked, surprised, looking up at him.

"Yeah, what, you never knew that?"

"No," Sam told him, shaking his head.

"And I remember Dad's story," Dean explained. "Mom was... Was on the ceiling. And whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her." He turned to Calypso. "Slash through her stomach, then she burst into flames."

"And he never had a theory about what did it?" Sam asked.

"If he did, he kept it to himself," Dean answered as he leaned against the car next to Sam. "God knows we asked him enough times."

"Okay," Sam said. "So, if we're gonna figure out what's goin' on now… we have to figure out what happened back then. And see if it's the same thing."

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "We'll talk to Dad's friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time."

There was a pause.

"Does this seem like just another job to you?" Sam asked Dean.

Dean didn't say anything for a moment.

"I'll be right back," he finally replied, avoiding the question. "I gotta go to the bathroom."

As Dean walked away, Calypso turned to Sam.

"It must be hard to be back here at the start of it all," she commented, knowing from experience.

"It's not that bad," Sam told her with a shrug. "I don't even remember any of it."

"Still," Calypso said, concerned. "You heard about it. That's still enough."

"It's harder for Dean," Sam said. Calypso nodded, deep in thought.

"I wouldn't have the strength to go back to my home," she admitted, her eyes focusing on something in the distance.

"You didn't move out after your mom died?" Sam asked, curious.

"No," Calypso answered thoughtfully. "Didn't even block off the room. Just washed away the blood and..." She sighed. "And pretended it never happened." She forced a smile on her face and a laugh out of her mouth that Sam could easily see through. "No hunting the murderer for me, I guess. Just tried to leave that to the police."

"And your dad?" Sam asked, stretching his luck. He didn't think she would answer.

"Just went on with life," Calypso told him sadly. "Didn't even blink."

It was true. Her father didn't mourn her mother except in public, where it was expected. Only Calypso cared.

It was only ever Calypso who cared.

It was only after a visit to the garage John Winchester used to work at that Sam, Dean, and Calypso learned that he visited a palm reader after she died. It was just a problem finding which one.

The impala was parked by a pay phone as Sam was looked through the phone book, trying to find the palm reader.

"All right, so there are a few psychics and palm readers in town," Sam told Dean and Calypso, both by the car facing towards Sam. "There's someone named El Divino. There's, uh," He laughed. "there's the Mysterious Mister Fortinsky." He looked up smiling at Calypso, who found the name just as funny as he did. "Uh, Missouri Moseley, some dude named—"

"Wait, wait," Dean interrupted, his interest piqued. "Missouri Moseley?"

"What?" Sam asked as Calypso peered up at Dean.

"That's a psychic?" Dean asked.

"Uh, yeah," Sam said, perplexed at Dean's sudden interest.

Calypso watched Dean go to the backseat of the car and take something out. John's journal.

"In Dad's journal," Dean told Sam. "Here, look at this." He opened to the front page as Sam walked over and Calypso attempted to peer over Dean's shoulders. "First page, first sentence. Read that." He handed the book to Sam.

"I went to Missouri," he read, pausing, "and I learned the truth,"

"I always thought he meant the state," Dean admitted with a shrug.

They visited Missouri next. As she sat in the waiting room, Calypso wondered if this woman was the real thing. If she was, then what could she do? Would she be able to tell the future? Read her thoughts? Neither idea sat comfortably in Calypso's stomach.

She heard the door to the working area open and looked up expectantly. Missouri, a short African American woman, escorted her customer out of the building.

"All right, there," Missouri told him, laughing nervously. "Don't you worry 'bout a thing. Your wife is crazy about you." The customer thanked her and she closed the front door behind him. "Whew. Poor bastard. His woman is cold-bangin' the gardener."

She began walking back into the next room.

"Why didn't you tell him?" Dean asked in surprise while Calypso raised an eyebrow.

"People don't come here for the truth," she told them, looking back. "They come for good news." The three stared at her blankly. "Well? Sam, Dean, Calypso, come on already, I ain't got all day." Missouri exited the room, leaving the three to share confused looks before following. "Well, lemme look at ya." she said once they all entered, Calypso halfway concealed behind Sam. Missouri laughed. "Oh, you boys grew up handsome." Calypso looked down at her feet awkwardly. Missouri clearly had history with the boys, but not with her. Why would she? Calypso hadn't known the Winchesters back then. The woman pointed a finger at Dean. "And you were one goofy-lookin' kid, too." Dean glared at her while Sam smirked and Calypso let out a small giggle. "Sam." Missouri said sympathetically, grabbing his hand and seeming to get a reading from it. "Oh, honey…I'm sorry about your girlfriend." The boys were shocked, but this was exactly what Calypso was expecting, for the most part, if Missouri wasn't a fake. Which she clearly wasn't. "And your father – he's missin'?"

"How'd you know that?" Sam asked, stunned.

"Well you were just thinking it just now," Missouri told him, as if that answered everything. Sam raised his eyebrows, surprised.

"Well, where is he?" Dean asked impatiently. "Is he okay?"

"I don't know," Missouri told him simply.

"Don't know?" Dean asked, confused. "Well, you're supposed to be a psychic, right?"

"Boy, you see me sawin' some bony tramp in half?" Missouri snapped. "You think I'm a magician?" Dean was completely bewildered. "I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can't just pull facts out of thin air. Sit, please." She motioned to the couch. Sam smirked at Dean while Calypso suppressed a smile, and they sat down across from Missouri. As he sat, Missouri snapped her fingers at Dean. "Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I'm 'a whack you with a spoon!"

Calypso decided she liked Missouri.

"I didn't do anything!" Dean protested.

"But you were thinkin' about it," Missouri pointed out. Both Sam and Calypso smiled.

"Okay. So, our dad –- when did you first meet him?" Sam asked, getting back on track.

"He came for a reading," Missouri explained. "A few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say… I drew back the curtains for him."

"What about the fire?" Dean asked. "Do you know about what killed our mom?"

"A little," she admitted. "Your daddy took me to your house. He was hopin' I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing."

"And could you?" Sam asked.

"I-" Missouri began before cutting herself off and shaking her head fearfully.

"What was it?" Sam persisted.

"I don't know," Missouri said softly. "Oh, but it was evil."

Calypso looked at her, her head tilted, confused. Missouri could sense the thing... Wasn't that what Calypso did? Maybe she was a psychic, like Missouri. That would be okay. At least it would be an explanation.

They told the woman about how they thought something was back in the Winchester's old place. Calypso let Sam and Dean tell the story. She felt like an outcast, as usual, and didn't think she was a big part of this case. She was just... Moral support.

"So… you think somethin' is back in that house?" Missouri clarified.

"Definitely," Sam told her.

"I don't understand."

"What?"

"I haven't been back inside, but I've been keepin' an eye on the place, and it's been quiet," Missouri explained. "No sudden deaths, no freak accidents. Why is it actin' up now?"

"I don't know," Sam said. "But Dad going missing and Jessica dying and now this house all happening at once – it just feels like something's starting."

"That's a comforting thought," Dean said sarcastically.

"I think we should go back there," Calypso stated suddenly, sitting straight up.

"Of course," Sam agreed.

"No, like right now," she said persistently, her fingernails digging into her fists. "I can't... Explain, really... But I think someone's having a pretty damn close encounter with death!"

How she knew, she wasn't sure. Calypso could just tell. But she couldn't tell who.

Everyone got up and went to the impala in a hurry, not waiting for Calypso to explain. Missouri went with them, to see if she could sense the energy in the old house. Calypso sat next to the woman and felt her hand brush over hers as she searched for the seatbelt. Missouri froze. When Calypso looked up, she saw the woman staring at her, eyes wide and mouth agape.

"My God," Missouri whispered. "When you first walked in, purple eyes and all, I wasn't sure... But now..."

"What?" Calypso asked nervously. "What are you talking about?" She saw Sam and Dean turn to look back at her out of the corner of her eye. Missouri shook her head and held Calypso's icy, pale hand between hers.

"Hon, there's no easy way to tell you this..." Missouri told her, looking into Calypso's wide violet eyes. "But..."

"But what?" Calypso asked quietly, not really wanting to hear the answer. Missouri looked her straight in the eye, but Calypso could see the sadness about her. Missouri truly did not want to tell her whatever it was she was about to. The woman took a breath and Calypso braced herself.

But she wasn't expecting the next words to come out of Missouri's mouth.

"Calypso, you're not human."

"What?" Calypso asked after a lifetime of silence, her voice cracking. "But... I-I have to be!" She looked to Sam and Dean, beginning to tear up. It wasn't true. It couldn't be.

Missouri shook her head sadly.

"What do you mean she's not human?" Dean asked, becoming protective after seeing Calypso's eyes fill with unshed tears. "Can't she just be... I dunno, cursed or something?"

"No," Missouri told him. "She was still blocking me, but I caught a glimpse... I'm sorry, Calypso, but you're not human. Or not fully human. I couldn't quite tell which."

"No..." Calypso protested, putting her face in her hands. She couldn't let them see her face. "I-I can't be..." She couldn't be different. She had to be normal. But she couldn't dwell on this, not now. With a sigh, she forced her head back up and wiped her face of emotion. "So you don't know what I am?"

"I'm sorry, hon," Missouri said sympathetically. "You have almost a wall around that subject. I couldn't break through it."

"Forget it." She lifted her chin slightly. "There's more important stuff going on. We should go."

"Callie-"

"Start the car, Dean."

The dangerous tone in her voice got to him. He didn't really care that they had people to save. He wanted to save her instead. And saving her meant that they needed to talk about what was going on, now. But Dean also knew that if he refused to help whoever Calypso said was dying, she would never forgive him. They had to go. He and Sam would talk to her about this later.

So he started the car and drove to his old house.

They arrived quickly, but didn't need to save anyone. Ritchie had been in trouble, but Jenny had found him just before things got bad. The woman wasn't sure about letting the group of four look around her house, but once Missouri began voicing Jenny's inner thoughts about the house, she let them inside.

"If there's a dark energy around here, this room should be the center of it," Missouri said, leading them into Sari's bedroom.

Sam looked around.

"Why?" he asked.

"This used to be your nursery, Sam. This is where it all happened," Missouri told Sam, looking back at him. Sam glanced up at the ceiling while Calypso wandered farther into the room, following a weak pull. She saw Dean pull out an EMF meter while Missouri looked around the room, waving her hand over things occasionally. "That an EMF?"

"Yeah."

"Amateur," Missouri sniffed. Dean glared at her and nudged Sam, showing him that the EMF was going crazy. Meanwhile, Calypso felt the light pull take her to the closet. "I don't know if you boys should be disappointed or relieved, but this ain't the thing that took your mom."

"Wait, are you sure?" Sam asked. Missouri nodded. "How do you know?"

"It isn't the same energy I felt the last time I was here," Missouri told him and Dean, wandering in the same direction Calypso was in. "It's somethin' different."

"It's over here," Calypso said thoughtfully from in front of the closet. She opened the doors and stepped inside. "Well, not it. Them. There's more than one. Two, I think."

"Very good, Calypso," Missouri praised. Calypso looked at her feet, embarrassed and angry at herself. This isn't what she wanted. She wanted to be human, even if it meant she couldn't sense spirits and death. She didn't want this, whatever it was.

"What are they doing here?" Dean asked.

"They're here because of what happened to your family," Missouri told him, walking back over to the brothers. Calypso stayed where she was. "You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walked this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds. And sometimes, wounds get infected."

"I don't understand," Sam told her, shaking his head.

"This place is a magnet for paranormal energy," Missouri elaborated, looking back nervously. "It's attracted a poltergeist. A nasty one. And it won't rest until Jenny and her babies are dead."

"You said there was more than one spirit." Sam pointed out.

"There is," Missouri confirmed, walking back to the closet and Calypso. "I just can't quite make out the second."

"It doesn't seem hostile," Calypso told them, staring into the closet. The three turned to her in surprise. "Yeah, the poltergeist seems pretty pissed off but... The second one seems to be peaceful, I think."

Sam and Dean exchanged an uneasy look behind her back. They didn't like this. Whatever Calypso was tapping into to know these things, it couldn't be good, could it?

"Well, one thing's for damn sure – nobody's dyin' in this house ever again," Dean promised, stepping forward. "So whatever is here, how do we stop it?"

Missouri quickly showed them how to make little bags that would repel the poltergeist, if put in the four corners of each floor of the house, north, west, south, and east. They sent Jenny, Sari, and Ritchie out of the house, then got to work. They each took a floor; Missouri took the basement, Calypso and Dean paired up on the first floor, and Sam took upstairs.

Dean started out in the kitchen, with Calypso in the next room. She held a hammer to the wall, tapped it a few times to make sure it was hollow, then brought the tool down. She looked at the hole in the wall for not even a moment before reaching down for the bag she had brought for this wall. As she turned to put it in, something wrapped around her wrist and sharply pulled her back. With a startled yell, she was thrown across the room. Dazed, she looked up to see the curtains reaching towards her. She scrambled to her feet and struggled to get back to the little brown bag, though they tried to hold her back. Each time they tried to attack her, she would slash at them with her knife. By the time she put the bag in the wall, the once beautiful sheer curtains were shredded into thread.

"You good?" Dean asked from behind her. Calypso quickly turned around, her now messy hair getting caught in her mouth.

"Yeah," she told him breathlessly. "You?"

"Yeah," he said. "I got the other ones."

"Well, thanks for saving one for me," Calypso said sarcastically. There was silence for a few moments. "Shouldn't some big reaction have happened by now?" Blood drained from her face when she realized. Judging by the look on his face, they had come to the same conclusion.

"Sam!" they both exclaimed, running towards, then up, the stairs. They ran into each room in turn, searching desperately for their brother. It was only after a few tries that they found him laying on the floor, the lamp cord wrapped tightly around his neck.

Calypso wanted to scream, but could only make a quiet choking noise. How long has Sam been laying there?

Dean and Calypso ran forward, trying to pull the cord off his neck, which, of course, didn't work. They couldn't beat the poltergeist with strength. Dean came to his senses before Calypso did, and picked up the bag while she was still desperately trying to get Sam free. The only problem was there was no hole in the wall yet, and Dean didn't have time to carefully select a spot. So he kicked the wall and hoped for the best. Luckily, the drywall broke and Dean quickly stuffed the bag into the hole.

As soon as the bag was placed in the wall, there was a blinding white light. Calypso shut her eyes, but as soon as the light died down she tore the cord off of Sam's neck while Dean ran back over to help her. As soon as Sam was free, Dean pulled him into a fierce hug, while Calypso simply put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

The poltergeist was finally gone.

Calypso wasn't completely sure the poltergeist was taken care of. She still felt something, a weak pull coming from upstairs, but she didn't say anything because of the reaction of the poltergeist, the bright light. It was proof the thing was gone. She was sure she was just imagining things. Still, Sam seemed to have the same idea as she did, and they camped out in the impala outside the house that night, dragging Dean along.

Calypso stared out the back left window, lost in thought. She was still fighting the idea that she wasn't human. She didn't need another thing to make her stand out from everyone else. Calypso wanted to be normal, but deep down she knew she was pretty far from it. She wasn't going to be selfish and dwell on it, though. If her supernatural powers could help people, she would use it. But when she didn't need it, she'd lock it away deep inside herself. She wasn't going to hurt someone with it, ever again.

"All right, so, tell me again, what are we still doin' here?" Dean asked, jerking Calypso out of her mind.

"I don't know. I just… I still have a bad feeling," Sam tried to explain.

"Why?" Dean asked. "Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubenstein thing, the house should be clean, it should be over."

"It probably is," Calypso said quietly, not taking her eyes off the house. "But it doesn't hurt to make sure, does it?"

"Yeah, well, problem is I could be sleeping in a bed right now," Dean told her and Sam. He slid down in his seat and closed his eyes. Calypso laughed and rolled her eyes. She looked back out the window, then felt red hot anger fill her mind, trying to force itself outward. She gasped loudly and put her head between her hands to keep it from exploding.

"Callie?" Dean asked worriedly.

"Dean!" Sam yelled before she could tell them to get out of the car. "Dean!" Calypso looked up to see Jenny banging on her window, screaming.

All three rushed out of the car and ran towards the house, even Calypso, who still had the worst headache she'd ever experienced.

"Sam, you get Sari, Callie, get Ritchie!" Dean told them. "I'll get Jenny!"

Calypso sprinted up the stairs to Ritchie's room and rushed in through the open door. The little boy was sleeping innocently, completely unaware of what was going on inside the house. Calypso didn't wake him, just scooped the little boy up in her arms and turned around to run back out the door. But as she was about to exit the room, Ritchie's door slammed shut.

"No!" Calypso yelled, stopping in her tracks. That's when Ritchie woke up. He looked around, dazed, as Calypso kicked at the door, trying to get out. Unfortunately, it was impossible to kick open the door from the side she was on, since the hinges were on her side. "Open the goddamn door!" she screamed to no one.

But it did open. Strangely, it swung open towards her, leaving the doorway clear for her to get out of. She ran downstairs, as fast as she possibly could, not taking any time to think about what just happened. The front door was only a few feet in front of her, so she put on an extra burst of speed.

That's when the thing tripped her. Ritchie flew from her arms and landed outside on the porch, safe, but Calypso ended up only a few inches from the doorway. She tried to crawl forward to the boy who was quickly running to his Mom, but something grabbed her foot and dragged her backwards into the kitchen.

"Damn it," Calypso said under her breath as she was pinned to the floor. "This sets things back a bit."

She struggled against the invisible force, but nothing happened. Since it was invisible, she couldn't see where its weak spot was. All she could do was laugh as it opened the drawer and brought out a knife.

"You can't kill me with that!" Calypso told it, amused. It didn't seem to care as the knife shot full force at her skull, and bounced off. She was suddenly dragged up into a standing position, then shoved into a cabinet, the handle digging into her spine. As she struggled to free herself, another familiar figure was dragged into the room, crashed into the table and more than a few cabinets, then put against the wall like she was.

"Hey Sam," Calypso said sarcastically. "Fancy meeting you here."

Sam didn't respond since, at that moment, a fiery figure came around the corner. When she focused, Calypso saw a blonde woman in a white nightgown walking slowly towards them.

"Oh my God," Calypso whispered. It was clear who this woman was. Mary Winchester. Who else could it be? Calypso shut her eyes and focused even harder, seeing if she could free herself from the poltergeist. It took a moment, but she was suddenly on the ground, exhausted. She curled her legs around to the side, putting her weight on her hands. Freeing herself took more energy than she expected.

"Sam?" Calypso heard Dean yell, his voice echoing through the house. She didn't answer, frozen staring at Mary Winchester. "Callie?" He wandered into the kitchen and found her and Sam, both looking as if they were about to be killed. Calypso looked up at him, too shocked to tell him. Before he could say anything, he saw the figure on fire, and raised his gun, threatening to shoot it.

"No, don't!" Sam yelled, panicked. "Don't!"

"What, why?" Dean asked, his voice raised.

"Because I know who it is," Sam told him. "I can see her now."

The fire around the figure vanished suddenly and Mary Winchester took its place, showing herself to Dean at last. His expression softened and he lowered his gun, stunned.

"Mom?" Dean asked softly.

Mary smiled and stepped forward towards her oldest son.

"Dean," she said simply but gently. Tears formed in Dean's eyes as Calypso looked away. She wasn't part of their family. This wasn't something that involved her.

Yet Mary walked towards her, reaching out and brushing Calypso's hair out of her eyes.

"Calypso," she said. "You look just like your mother."

Calypso looked up at Mary, her eyes shining. Mary Winchester knew her mom? How? She had so many questions, but said nothing as the woman went to Sam.

"Sam," Mary said, just as she did with the other two. Sam was smiling weakly, but crying. Her smile faded. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Sam asked, sadness thick on his voice.

Mary looked at her son sadly, but said nothing. She walked away from them, and looked up at the ceiling.

"You get out of my house," the woman said fiercely. "And let go of my son."

Once again, she burst into flames, but this time Calypso couldn't see through them. The fire reached the ceiling and, with a screech only Calypso was able to hear, an invisible figure seemed to fall from it. Sam was released from the wall at the same time and everyone was still for a moment before he walked over to Dean. Calypso continued to look at the place Mary Winchester disappeared, too many questions running through her mind.

"Now it's over," Sam said simply.

The next morning, Sam and Calypso sat silently on the front steps of the house while Dean talked with Jenny by the impala.

"Well, there are no spirits in there anymore, this time for sure," Missouri said, coming out from the house and joining them. She sat down next to Calypso.

"Not even my mom?" Sam asked.

"No," Missouri told him sympathetically.

"What happened?" Calypso asked.

"Mary's spirit and the poltergeist's energy, they cancelled each other out," Missouri explained. She turned to Sam. "Your mom destroyed herself goin' after the thing."

"Why would she do something like that?" Sam asked.

"Well, to protect her boys, of course," Missouri told him. Sam nodded, teary eyed. Missouri went to put her hand on his shoulder, but stopped herself. "Sam, I'm sorry."

"For what?" he asked.

"You sensed it was here, didn't you?" Missouri asked. "Even when I couldn't."

"What's happening to me?" Sam asked. Calypso put a comforting hand on his shoulder. She knew exactly how he was feeling. Confused, panicked, overwhelmed... That was something they had in common.

"I know I should have all the answers, but I don't know," Missouri admitted. "And Calypso, I'm so sorry for what happened to you as a kid. I know your mom wouldn't have wanted that for you. That's what she died trying to protect you from, right?"

Calypso looked down at her clasped hands and nodded sadly. There were many things that her Mom had died trying to protect her from. Red eyes was only one. Sam looked over at her, questions burning in his eyes.

"You are more powerful than you realize, Calypso," Missouri told her. "In fact, you are by far the most powerful thing I've ever encountered. And that's saying a lot."

"But I'm still a thing," Calypso pointed out.

"Just because you're not human doesn't mean you have to be a monster," Missouri told her. "You can use your power for good, to defeat evil."

Calypso looked up at the sky, so bright and blue it hurt her eyes. Maybe Missouri was right. Calypso didn't feel like a monster. She didn't want to be one. So she would help people, not hurt them, from then on. That was her promise. And if she broke it, well... The Winchesters would be there to deal with her.

"Sam, Callie, you two ready?" Dean called from the impala. Calypso smiled, new hope in her heart, and got up, walking over to the car.

"Don't you three be strangers!" Missouri called after them.

"We won't!" Calypso called back.

"See you around," she told them. Jenny waved as they got in the car and drove away. Miles passed by in silence.

"So your mom knew my mom?" Calypso asked, voicing the question all three had had on their minds since the day before. "Did you know?"

"No," Sam said while Dean shook his head. "We're just as surprised as you are."

"I wonder if my mom knew your dad, too," Calypso said.

Dean shrugged.

"It's possible," he told her. She looked out the window, smiling and watching house after house go by. "When we find him, we can ask." Calypso smiled.

She felt so much more connected with the Winchesters now.

But she had no clue how connected they really were.

Missouri went back inside her house and put her purse on the table.

"That boy… he has such powerful abilities," she said, sounding as if she was talking to herself. "But why he couldn't sense his own father, I have no idea." She walked over to the couch, where John Winchester was sitting, looking distressed. "And that girl they have with them, Calypso Daemgelus, she's really something, too."

"I know," John said. "So was her mother." He looked up at Missouri. "Mary's spirit – do you really think she saved them?"

"I do," Missouri told him. John twisted his wedding ring around his finger sadly. "John Winchester, I could just slap you. Why won't you go talk to your children?"

"I want to," John said sadly. "You have no idea how much I wanna see 'em. But I can't. Not yet."

He took a breath.

"Not until I know the truth."


	7. Chapter 7

Calypso didn't sleep.

Not often, anyway. It was a habit that started after her mom died. She used to tuck Calypso in, promise her daughter that she'd always be there to protect her. No matter what.

When she died, Calypso no longer felt safe. Her mom wasn't there to protect her anymore. She was on her own. And she could never fall asleep, never make herself vulnerable to anything that lurked in the dark.

So the night that John Winchester finally called his children, Calypso was wide awake, staring into the early morning rays of sunlight.

She heard Dean's cellphone ring, but he wasn't waking up. All three had been awake the entire night the day before, cleaning up the vengeful spirit at the Roosevelt Asylum, so Sam and Dean were exhausted. But not Calypso.

Finally she heard Sam roll around in his bed. He could get the call, but not Calypso. It wasn't her phone, after all. She didn't use anyone's phone but hers.

Sam answered the phone, and Calypso heard the crumpling of blankets as he sat straight up. Calypso was already sitting up, leaning against the wall. She "slept" on the ground, as usual. She always refused to take a bed.

"Dad?" Sam asked. Calypso sat a little straighter, stunned. The boys hadn't had contact with their father since before he disappeared. Why was he calling now? "Are you hurt?"

There was silence as John replied, saying something Calypso couldn't hear.

"We've been looking for you everywhere," Sam said. Calypso noticed he didn't elaborate on what other things had happened, like the brothers adopting an inhuman creature as their sister. Now that she thought about it, John probably wouldn't be too thrilled about that. "We didn't know where you were, if you were okay."

Another pause. Calypso heard movement and looked over at Dean's bed, noticing that he was waking up.

"We're fine," Sam answered a question Calypso didn't hear. "Dad, where are you?"

She saw Dean sit straight up in his bed. Neither he nor Sam had looked over at Calypso yet, didn't know she was awake. Good. This seemed like it would be a personal discussion. She would pretend she was asleep during it, like she always did.

"What?" Sam asked his father. "Why not?"

"Is that Dad?" Dean asked, trying to understand what was going on.

There was a longer silence.

"You're after it, aren't you?" Sam asked, responding to a statement neither Calypso nor Dean had heard. "The thing that killed Mom."

It was a short pause, but it seemed to shock Sam nonetheless.

"A demon?" Sam asked, stunned. "You know for sure?"

Calypso furrowed her eyebrows. From the way this side of the conversation was going, it sounded as if John knew what killed his wife. A demon. Sam, Dean, and Calypso had faced one on an airplane once. It was her first flight, but she hadn't told them. She didn't want to bring up any questions. Still, the demon was tough to beat, and they could only send it back to Hell - or wherever it came from - to save the people on the plane. They couldn't kill it.

"A demon? What's he saying?" Dean asked, wanting to be in the loop.

"You know where it is?" Sam asked after a very long pause. Silence. "Let us help!" By 'let us help,' Calypso knew Sam meant just him and Dean. They'd probably drop her at the side of the road so that they could be with their dad again. She couldn't blame them, of course. Calypso was used to being shunted aside. Calypso heard nothing while John replied. "Why not?"

"Give me the phone," Dean told Sam, his arm outstretched. Sam, naturally, ignored him, and kept listening to his father. There was a long silence as John told his son something that Calypso and Dean couldn't hear.

"Names?" Sam asked. Calypso tilted her head to the side. This wasn't the direction she was expecting the conversation to go in. "What names, Dad—talk to me, tell me what's going on." Quiet. "No. Alright? No way."

"Give me the phone," Dean repeated. When Sam did nothing, Dean grabbed it out of his brother's hand. "Dad, it's me," he said. "Where are you?" His dad took a moment to reply. "Yes sir." Calypso looked up. That's strange. Why would anyone call their father 'sir'? "Uh, yeah, I got a pen. What are their names?"

It was only a couple minutes later when Sam and Dean "woke up," Calypso and the three piled into the car in the dark.

"Alright, so, the names Dad gave us, they're all couples?" Sam asked Dean, while Calypso faked a yawn in the backseat. Part of acting like she slept all night was pretending to be tired and take a long time to wake up in the morning. Otherwise they could catch on and ask questions she wasn't ready to answer.

"Three different couples. All went missing," Dean replied, playing with the pen and map he was holding. Like a few rare occasions before, he was sitting in the passenger seat and letting Sam drive.

"And they're all from different towns? Different states?" Sam asked.

"That's right. You got Washington, New York, Colorado-" Dean began.

"Completely different parts of the country," Calypso noticed.

"Exactly," Dean praised. She glowed with pride. "Each couple took a road trip cross-country. None of them arrived at their destination, and none of them were ever heard from again."

"Well, it's a big country, Dean," Sam pointed out. "They could've disappeared anywhere."

"Yeah, could've," Dean agreed. "But each one's route took 'em to the same part of Indiana. Always on the second week of April. One year after another after another."

"It's the second week of April, isn't it." Calypso said, pointing out the obvious.

"Yep," Dean said.

"So, Dad is sending us to Indiana to go hunting for something before another couple vanishes?" Sam clarified, not sounding sold.

"Yahtzee," Dean told his brother, pointing at him without looking up. "Can you imagine putting together a pattern like this? All the different obits Dad had to go through? The man's a master." Calypso saw Sam's face go sour in the rear view mirror, as he pulled the car over and stopped. Oh, great. What now? "What are you doing?"

"We're not going to Indiana," Sam said calmly.

"What?" Calypso asked, confused. "We're not?"

"No," Sam replied. "We're going to California. Dad called from a payphone. Sacramento area code."

"Sam," Dean sighed.

"Dean, if this demon killed Mom and Jess, and Dad's closing in, we've gotta be there. We've gotta help," Sam told him.

Calypso sunk down awkwardly in the backseat. She felt as if she was wearing neon lights saying, "Not part of this family! No clue what's going on!"

"Dad doesn't want our help," Dean pointed out.

"I don't care," Sam said.

"He's given us an order," Dean said.

"I don't care," Sam told his brother firmly. "We don't always have to do what he says."

"Sam, Dad is asking us to work jobs, to save lives, it's important," Dean told him, a dangerous tone in his voice. Calypso agreed with him, but could see Sam's point as well. This was the fight they'd been training for their entire lives, and their father was trying to make them stay out of it. But if they left, a couple would die in the next week. Neither was right, but neither was wrong.

"Alright, I understand, believe me, I understand," Sam said, trying to address Dean's side. "But I'm talking one week here, man, to get answers. To get revenge."

"In one week a couple is going to be dead," Calypso pointed out. Sam's eyes rolled in the rear view mirror.

"Alright, look, I know how you feel," Dean said, attempting to sympathize.

"Do you?" Calypso could see Dean's shock at his brother's tone. Sam laughed bitterly. "How old were you when Mom died? Four? Jess died six months ago. How the hell would you know how I feel?"

"Dad said it wasn't safe," Dean pointed, fighting back. "For any of us. I mean, he obviously knows something that we don't, so if he says to stay away, we stay away."

"I don't understand the blind faith you have in the man," Sam spat. "I mean, it's like you don't even question him."

"No, don't-" Calypso tried to interrupt before things got bad.

"Yeah, it's called being a good son!" Dean interrupted as if he didn't hear her. Sam got out of the car, slamming the door. Dean followed angrily.

"No, don't fight!" Calypso cried, quickly opening her door and following them. She positioned herself between the brothers, arms outstretched towards both of them. She watched helplessly as Sam began unloading his things from the trunk.

"You're a selfish bastard, you know that?" Dean said, his voice pure fury. "You just do whatever you want. Don't care what anybody thinks."

"That's what you really think?" Sam asked.

"Yes it is," Dean told him.

"No - please don't!"

The brothers ignored her.

"Well, then this selfish bastard is going to California," Sam said, putting on his backpack and beginning to walk away.

"Wait - come back!" Calypso cried.

"Come on, you're not serious," Dean called after him.

"I am serious," Sam replied, not turning back around.

Calypso was trying so hard to keep them together, but it just wasn't working. It was killing her.

"It's the middle of the night!" Dean protested. "Hey, I'm taking off, I will leave your ass, you hear me?"

Sam stopped walking and turned around.

"That's what I want you to do," Sam claimed. "You coming, Callie?"

"Wait - What?" she asked, stunned. She wasn't expecting him to invite her along.

"You told me you wanted to find out what you are," Sam told her. "I'm sure Dad will know."

"Or maybe she wants to save someone's life," Dean said pointedly. She looked between the two of them.

"Are you guys asking me to pick who I want to go with?" Calypso asked, shocked. They both nodded. "No! I'm not gonna choose!" she yelled. "No way! I'm not one of those idiotic girls from teenage romance novels! If you two are going your separate ways then - then so am I!"

This seemed to take them both by surprise.

"Where are you gonna go?" Dean asked, anger edging his voice. Calypso turned to him, eyes flashing.

"Like I'm gonna tell either of you two morons!" she said angrily. "Hell, I don't even know yet." She crossed her arms and looked determinedly away. Then she softened slightly. Calypso sighed. "But if you guys need me, just call, okay? I'll be there ASAP."

There was a pause.

"Fine," Dean agreed, bitterly. "Goodbye Sam, Callie."

Dean shut the trunk, then got in the driver's seat of his car and drove away, leaving Sam and Calypso standing alone.

"See you later, Sam," Calypso said.

"See you around, Callie," Sam told her.

Then they left, heading in opposite directions.

Calypso immediately felt guilty for not trying to keep the Winchesters together. No, instead of being the kind, faithful person she should be, Calypso walked away in a fit of anger. She ran away. That's what she always did when things were bad, she realized. She ran from her house, her new family, even her mom's funeral.

She still remembered that day well. Calypso had walked into the church in her small black dress, tears threatening to overflow from her eyes the moment she entered. She'd held her arms against her chest, trying to keep her heart from shattering. Her seat was the very first pew, right next to her father and aunt. The service hadn't started yet so people were walking up to her dad, saying the same thing each time.

"I'm sorry for your loss," a family friend had told her father, the fourteenth one to do so. Calypso was keeping track. Of course, none of the people ever told that to Calypso. They just silently judged her from afar. She could imagine what they were thinking.

_That's the girl that caused Annabella's death,_ _Annabella died because of her_, and _Annabella had so many years to go. Why did her daughter shorten it?_ were some of her main ideas.

She had kept quiet for most of the funeral, listening to people she didn't know talk about her mom, saying things about her that Calypso didn't know about until then.

Then it was time for Calypso to say a few words. She stood up, shaking, and slowly made her way up to the microphone, her hands clenched in the skirt of her dress. She waited for her uncle to finish speaking, but he motioned for her to join him by the microphone.

"My sister gave me a box six years ago," Uncle Seb said loudly, holding up a small, velvety black box."She told me to keep it safe at all costs, but never to touch what was inside, or she'd kill me. I still have no doubt that she would've if I'd ever so much as opened the box." There was polite laughter as Calypso wondered what was in the cube of velvet. "She told me that if anything were to ever happen to her, to give this to her daughter, that it was hers." Uncle Seb turned to his niece and spoke quietly so the microphone wouldn't pick it up. "If you don't want to open it now, that's fine, kiddo. You can wait if that's what's best."

Calypso gave a small shake of her head. She wanted to show everyone what was inside, that her mom cared for her, even if nobody else did. Well, almost nobody else. Uncle Seb seemed to be supportive of her.

"As Annabella wished, I now give the mystery box to Calypso, who can now open it," Uncle Seb announced, turning and placing the small parcel in Calypso's outstretched hands.

She'd wasted no time in wondering what it was. The box itself suggested jewelry, as did the weight. But she hadn't expected to snap the box open and find a locket.

She turned it around in her hands a couple of times, taking in the beauty of it, the shining purple gems coating the outside, then figured out how to slide the switch and open it. With a small click, the locket had swung open.

A lump had quickly grown in Calypso's throat as she saw her mom's beautiful, serene face smiling up at her. She looked up into the sea of unfriendly people, all looking the same, and a tear fell out of her left eye, traveling down her face in an unbroken line. Then another tear escaped. And another. Then she was full out crying.

Calypso had tried to look for her mom. Surely she would wipe away Calypso's tears, tell her that everything would be okay. It hit her like a bullet piercing her heart.

Her mom would never do that again.

Calypso hadn't even noticed that she'd sprinted out of the church and up the street, sobbing and lost in her sorrow. She needed to get away. She needed to get as far away from the funeral as possible. It wasn't happening. As soon as she got home, her mom would be there and hug Calypso and ask how school was and Calypso would lie and say it was fine. Everything that just happened was a dream. She would wake up and everything would be normal again.

But she hadn't woken up.

Looking back, she didn't remember running to the park and into the woods behind it. But that's exactly what she did. It had taken no time at all to find the place her mom had found for her, their secret clearing, and Calypso had knelt down, placing her hands on the large rock in front of her, the one she used to sit on, next to her Mom. She'd looked down and began to pray.

"Please, God, take care of Mommy," Calypso had said quietly, her voice wavering. "She is a good person." She smiled hopefully. "Make her an angel. Make her my angel, so she's still with me... Just-" Her voice broke and she started to sob. "Just don't let her forget about me, please. Please!"

Her head had fallen against her clasped hands when she realized she hadn't put the locket on yet. Calypso shakily placed it around her neck, feeling its weight against her chest. The weight she would constantly feel for the rest of her life.

She'd curled into a ball on the wet, mossy floor, staring up at the dark gray clouds blanketing the sky and cried into her skirt.

Calypso had nothing left. Nothing at all. Everything she had ever cared about was gone. Well, not everyone. Uncle Seb was still here. She cared about him. Not as much as she'd cared about her mom, but still a lot.

It was the day afterwards that she'd gotten the news. There was a car crash.

Uncle Seb was dead.

Calypso caught a bus into a town called Alolanel, Illinois, not wanting to be too far from Dean if anything went wrong. Sam was going to be with his dad, but Dean was alone, and that could be dangerous. But Calypso was gonna let him ask for her help, not the other way around.

Alolanel was a small, spread out town, and Calypso had no trouble finding her way around. She went into bookstore after bookstore, trying to find a good read, even if she had no money to buy it with. She eventually found herself wandering the streets after dark, lonely for the first time since she met the Winchesters, almost four months ago.

She walked around a small park, crossing her arms tightly around her chest. It was cold out, and she had left her jacket in the impala, certain that she would get back in the car. Of course, she hadn't, and was now stuck outside in the cold while Dean had her only jacket. Just her luck.

She noticed the cold was worse when she stood still, so Calypso kept walking in circles, trying her best to keep warm. It warmed her up a little, but not very much.

"Hey," a low voice said from behind her. "Kid,"

She turned around to see a tall police officer a few feet in front of her, looking warm. It made Calypso shake even more.

"Is there a problem, officer?" Calypso asked the man sweetly, blocking the effect the cold had on her voice.

"Shouldn't you be asleep in your bed?" the officer asked. "It's nearly one in the morning."

"Oh, yes," Calypso said, beginning to spin a brilliant lie. "I was going home right now."

"Funny, seeing as I watched you walk in circles for the past fifteen minutes," the officer said. Calypso froze. What was she supposed to say now? "So you tell me, are you a runaway?"

"N-No I just... I-" she stammered.

"Come with me," the cop sighed, reaching out for her arm. But when he should have connected with it, it was gone. Calypso had run, and was almost completely covered by trees by the time the cop looked for her. But the man still caught a glimpse.

She exited the park as quickly as she could, panting, and ran up the sidewalk. Her pace slowed down to a walk. The police would expect her to stay in the park, so she left it behind. As long as she kept her head down, they wouldn't find her.

Of course, that was exactly what she thought right before the police car rolled up next to her.

"One more time sweetie, what's your name?"

"Voldemort," Calypso answered sarcastically, the cop questioning her beginning to lose hope. They'd been going at it for hours, now. The female police officer, specializing in children and runaways, would ask a question, and Calypso would answer with a sarcastic remark and the rolling of eyes. Just acting like a typical teenager, really.

"Okay, okay," the cop said. "Maybe it's time for you to get some sleep. I'll escort you to your room for the night."

Calypso was silent as she was put into a small room that had a small window, unable to be opened, and a clock above the door. It was 5:30 pm. After Calypso had been taken to the police station, she was given a blanket to warm up with, and some food to eat. She'd accepted, of course, but didn't speak. Even when they brought in the gentle police officer to ask her questions, Calypso never considered telling them the truth, or anything near it. It made her a little bit proud, even if she was scared out of her mind.

She looked into the corner at the small, uncomfortable looking bed. There was nothing to do now but sleep, even if she didn't feel the need to. As she made her way to the lumpy bed, she wondered how Sam and Dean were doing. Did Sam find his dad yet? Was Dean finished with the case? Calypso couldn't exactly call them and ask anymore. The police didn't take her phone away, but they did say there were security cameras everywhere, and they'd know if she'd call or text anyone.

She didn't want to risk it.

Calypso did her best to make herself comfortable, but the bed was like straw poking into her back. Yet, somehow, her mind managed to ease its way into unconsciousness.

Calypso dreamed she was in a small cellar, two people, a blonde haired girl and a tall dark haired guy, standing with their backs to her. The guy looked familiar. Very familiar.

"Wait," Calypso said cautiously. "Dean?"

He turned around to face her, as did the blonde girl, shocked and frightened expressions on their faces. Dean's expression quickly melted into confusion.

"Callie?" he asked, trying to make sense of the situation. "How did you get here?"

"Well, I'm dreaming, so I can go wherever I want to go," she said, looking around. "But I don't recognize this place. Where am I?" She reached out, but her hand went through the wall. Great. She couldn't even touch anything.

"How did she-" the blonde girl asked in a panicky voice. "Dean?"

"It's okay, Emily, she's a friend," Dean said. Calypso looked at Emily, knowing she'd never seen her before. What kind of dream was this? "And Callie, you gotta listen to me, okay?" She nodded. "This isn't a dream." Calypso tilted her head. "I get it now. God, this makes so much more sense!" Calypso looked at him patiently, waiting for him to get to the point. "You're projecting your spirit out of your body."

There was a shocked silence.

"What?" she asked, stunned.

"It makes sense," Dean said. "When you first dreamed about me and Sam, you saw us hunting things at the exact time it happened. You said you went through everything, like you did now, and nobody could see you except those who were already dead, or close to it. That sounds exactly like a spirit. How you get it out of your body, though, I have no clue."

"Oh," Calypso said, biting her lip. So it wasn't a dream. But why were they in a cramped basement?

"Please tell me you're close to Burkitsville, Indiana," Dean told her.

"I'm only forty minutes away," Calypso told him.

"Okay you gotta get here immediately," Dean told her. "Can you do that?"

"Not really," Calypso said sheepishly. "I've kinda been arrested. I'm still thinking up an escape plan."

"You WHAT?"

"Hey, hey, no big deal," Calypso said soothingly. "I was caught for being a runaway. Been held since last night. I'll escape soon."

Of course, she was only saying that. Calypso had no chance of escaping, and she knew it. But she needed to keep their hopes up.

Dean quickly told her about the sacrificing to the scarecrow god in exchange for good crops and jobs in the town. Then he added that he and Emily were captured to be sacrificed next.

"So, you know, a little help here would be great," Dean concluded.

"No shit," Calypso said, ringing her hands. "And I just go through everything I touch right now, so I can't bust you out..." She thought for a moment, figuring out a good plan. "Okay, I think I know what to do. What's your last name?" she asked Emily.

"Johnson," the terrified girl answered quietly.

"Okay," Calypso said. "You two just-"

She was cut off by a hand shaking her awake.

"Miss, are you okay?" the same female police officer from before asked. "You were muttering in your sleep."

Calypso, noticing that her face was already in a desperate position, put her plan into action. She forced her eyes to water, sniffed a couple times as if she was holding back tears, and watched the police officer look at her, concerned.

"I just want to go home to Burkitsville," Calypso cried.

By some miracle, it worked. The cops bought it. How, she wasn't sure. In fact, she was terrified when they looked up her fake name, Emily Johnson, but the strange part was that the police officer told her that everything matched exactly what she said. The picture was even up to date.

That freaked Calypso out. She didn't look anything like Emily, yet the cops were so sure. Was this some kind of divine intervention? If it was, it came at the right time. They thankfully let her use her phone to call her brother to come pick her up and bring her home. She prayed that Sam would pick up the phone.

He answered on the second ring.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Sam, great, you picked up!"

"Callie?" Sam said, sounding relieved. "Thank God. I've been trying to call you for hours!"

"Look, I'm sorry I ran away," Calypso said, remembering the police officers watching her. "Please, would you let me come back home?"

"Huh?" Sam asked, sounding confused. Then it must have clicked. "Wait. Callie, were you arrested?"

"Yeah," she admitted. "I'm at the Alolanel, Illinois police station. They just had to help poor little Emily Johnson. Could you come pick me up? I'll explain everything when you get here."

"Yeah, I'm actually only a couple minutes away," Sam told her. "I'm on my way to Indiana. I think Dean's in trouble. Just stay put okay? I'll be there soon."

"Okay."

Sam wasn't lying when he said that he was only a few minutes away. It was no more than five minutes later that he strolled into the police station, looking exhausted.

"Emily!" Sam exclaimed, seeing Calypso sitting in one of the chairs.

"Sam!" Calypso said, standing up and smiling. It had been almost three days since she last saw him.

Sam quickly took care of the police questions, and then they were gone, out of the police station for good.

"What the hell, Callie!" Sam said angrily as he led her to his stolen car. "Why did you let yourself get arrested?"

Calypso didn't answer him. She stopped and looked straight ahead, a terrified look on her face. Sam looked around to see if she saw anything, but nothing unusual was happening. He turned back to her, concerned.

"Callie?" he asked gently. "You okay?"

She blinked a couple times and snapped out of it. She shivered and looked back at the police station before getting in the car and slamming the door.

"Sorry," Calypso said softly when Sam got into the driver's seat. "It's just... That was terrifying."

"What - getting arrested?" Sam asked, turning on the car. She nodded.

"I just kept thinking, 'they're gonna figure out who I am,' and I-" She put her head in her hands, sighing. "I'm just glad it's over with."

"Hey, you're okay," Sam told her, comforting his sister. She sat straight up. She had forgotten. How had she forgotten?!

"Yeah, I'm fine, but, listen, Dean needs our help!" Calypso exclaimed.

"What?"

Calypso explained how her spirit had visited Dean and found him on his way to be sacrificed.

"You're kidding," Sam said. Calypso shook her head. "Okay, you're not kidding." They were on the highway by now, speeding their way to Dean. "That's impressive, Callie. Nobody I've met before could do that."

"I think we've established by now that I'm not anything like the people you've met before," Calypso pointed out. Sam half-smiled. There was a pause. "When we find your dad, what if he doesn't let me stay with you guys?" she asked suddenly.

"He will," Sam tried to reassure her.

"But what if he doesn't?" Calypso persisted.

"Then Dean and I will have to hide you," Sam told her. "We won't abandon you, ever. I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

Sam knew he wasn't supposed to hear Calypso whisper that statement, but he couldn't block it out. It left him wondering. Why didn't she trust anyone?

What had happened to her?

It didn't take long to find Dean and Emily, but it was already dark. Calypso was terrified that they were too late. She helped Sam find the right place, then searched through the orchard Dean told Calypso he would be in.

It took a few minutes, but when Sam and Calypso rounded a tree, they found Dean and Emily tied to two others.

"Dean?" Sam asked.

"Oh!" Dean said, relieved. "Oh, I take everything back I said. I'm so happy to see you. Come on." Sam began to untie Dean from the tree while Calypso went to help Emily. "How'd you get here?"

"I picked up Callie from the police after I, uh, stole a car." Sam admitted.

"Haha! That's my boy!" Dean said. "Callie, how did you get out of jail?"

"Oh, you know," Calypso started, almost done with Emily's ropes. "Little bit of lying." Dean raised his eyebrows. "Okay, a whole lot of lying," Calypso admitted, an uneasy feeling still in her stomach. The police should have easily known she was lying. Something wasn't right. She shouldn't have been released. Dean laughed.

"Nice," Dean praised. Calypso forced a smile. "And keep an eye on that scarecrow. He could come alive any minute."

Calypso looked behind the tree, eyebrows furrowed. Then she gasped. Sam said it for her.

"What scarecrow?"

Dean got up, his ropes off him, and looked at the empty post, the ropes on it still swinging.

The scarecrow was out hunting.

And they were the prey.

They were running, Calypso staying in the back. That's where the thing would strike, and it would be much better for it to try to stab someone who can't be killed.

Dean explained how the pagan god possessing the scarecrow was connected to an old tree. It would only be killed if they burned the tree down.

"Alright, now, this sacred tree you're talking about—" Sam began.

"It's the source of its power," Dean explained.

"So let's find it and burn it," Calypso suggested.

"Nah, in the morning. Let's just shag ass before Leather Face catches up," Dean told her.

The four reached a clearing, hoping it was the way out. Then they heard rustling. Calypso turned around, terrified, as townspeople blocked their way. They were trying to trap them, to force them to be sacrificed.

"This way," Dean suggested, turning around. The rest followed, but they were blocked in all directions, flashlight beams shining on them. There was an ominous growl. The scarecrow. It was out there, somewhere, and it was impatient. Calypso looked around nervously, then realized that they were in the center of the circle, and therefore the safest. Were the townspeople really so naïve to realize the scarecrow wouldn't hesitate to take them, too?

"Please," Emily begged. "Let us go."

"It'll be over quickly, I promise," an old man in front of them said calmly. It seemed like he knew the girl.

"Please," she pleaded once more.

"Emily, you have to let him take you. You have to—"

It was sudden. One moment the man was talking, and the next a bloody sickle forced its way through his stomach. The man's mouth opened in his last desperate gasp for air as Emily and the woman next to the now dead man screamed, but Calypso expected it. What did they think was going to happen if they surrounded the four?

The woman next to the man who was stabbed was then pulled away by the scarecrow, dragged away with the dead man. Emily ran into Dean's arms while she heard the woman screaming. Emily knew them both, Calypso realized. This was especially hard on her. Calypso vaguely noticed that the other townspeople ran away in fright.

"Come on, let's go," Dean said, pulling Emily along.

The four began running away, hopefully back to the impala, when they heard the growling from the scarecrow. But when they turned around, the scarecrow and its victims had disappeared.

The next morning, the group revisited the orchard with gasoline and a lighter. They were going to burn the sacred tree down and kill the scarecrow, and town, for good. They walked around the orchard for a while to search. It was so bright and sunny it was almost as if the night before never happened, until they found the tree. Calypso exchanged a look with Sam and Dean, then took the container of gasoline and carefully poured it on the tree. It was almost as if she was watering it, except for the smell. She turned back around to see Dean pick up a long branch and set it on fire, using the lighter.

"Let me," Emily told him, taking the branch from Dean.

"You know, the whole town's gonna die," Dean told her, giving her a fair warning.

"Good," Emily said fiercely. She threw the burning branch onto the tree coated in gasoline and all four of them watched it go up in flames, not speaking.

Another job well done.

After the tree burned down, Sam, Dean, and Calypso took Emily to the bus stop. She was going as far away as she could, to Boston. Emily smiled at Dean and Calypso as she boarded the bus and they waved. Emily waved back before walking into the bus and taking a seat. It was silent as Sam, Dean, and Calypso watched the bus leave.

"Think she's gonna be alright?" Sam asked.

"I hope so," Dean said.

"And the rest of the townspeople are just gonna get away with it?" Calypso asked, angry that a greater punishment wasn't given. She had always believed that anyone who did something bad to someone should suffer just as much as the person they hurt, if not more. If it was her decision, she'd burn the town to the ground.

"Well, what'll happen to the town will have to be punishment enough," Dean said, but Calypso could tell he agreed with her. They began walking to the impala. "So, can I drop you two off somewhere?"

"No, I think you're stuck with me," Sam said. Calypso smiled and nodded in agreement. They stopped at the car.

"What made you change your mind?" Dean asked Sam. He already knew why Calypso would stay. Because he and Sam weren't forcing her to choose one or the other. She was independent that way.

"I didn't," Sam began to explain. "I still wanna find Dad. And you're still a pain in the ass." Dean nodded, pleased with the description of him. "But, Jess and Mom—they're both gone. Dad is God knows where. You, me, and Callie. We're all that's left. So, if we're gonna see this through, we're gonna do it together."

Calypso was stunned to hear her name in Sam's mini speech. Yeah, she felt like their little sister, but she wasn't completely sure they felt the same way. But now she was reassured that she was a part of their tight knit family, even if they hardly knew her.

Dean paused.

"Hold me, Sam. That was beautiful," Dean said sarcastically. He put his hand on Sam's shoulder jokingly, and his brother hit it away. They all laughed, Calypso included.

"You should be kissing my ass. You were dead meat, dude," Sam said, going to the passenger seat of the car while Calypso went to the back.

"And who was it that told you where he was?" Calypso asked innocently with a smile. Sam laughed. "So, you know, I technically saved Dean Winchester from certain death," she finished dramatically. But Calypso couldn't keep a straight face and started laughing, the Winchesters joining her in a moment.

"Yeah, right," Dean said. "I had a plan, I'd have gotten out."

"Totally," Calypso said, smiling and playing along.

And they got in the car and drove off, ready to find their next hunt.


	8. Chapter 8

It was the last night of their hunt when everything went wrong.

The night started out normal, with no complications for once. The engine of the impala growled quietly as the Winchesters and Calypso drove up to the front of an old abandoned house. Calypso's mouth twitched up slightly. This was the classic set up for a horror movie.

Except they weren't going to start the movie. They were going to end it.

Dean parked and the three hunters jumped out of the car. He opened the trunk and took out three Tasers, handing one each to Sam and Calypso, while keeping one for himself.

Holding onto the electric weapon carefully, Calypso was reminded of elementary school, when friends would ambush each other in the hallway by digging their hands into the victim's side. It would cause the person to shriek and flail, sometimes falling down, then they would chase their attacker down the hallway, laughing.

Of course, since these were actual Tasers, they were much more painful and deadly. It only took one wrong shot to accidentally hit something it wasn't supposed to. Then the thing would get fried.

"What do you got those amped up to?" Sam asked Dean quietly.

"A hundred thousand volts," Dean replied, not wasting any time. Calypso whistled.

"Damn," she whispered, impressed. "Remind me not to accidentally hit myself!"

"Yeah, I want this rawhead extra frickin' crispy," Dean told her, getting in the mood of the hunt. "And remember, you only get one shot with these things." He closed the trunk. "So make it count."

The three went down the basement stairs in the old house cautiously, armed with Tasers and flashlights. Calypso followed behind the brothers, making sure nothing attacked them from behind.

There was a noise from to the left of the stairs. The hunters began to move toward a cupboard, the source of the sound. Dean slipped his hand in the handle, ready to open the door.

"On three," Dean whispered, preparing them for the worst case scenario. "One." Calypso watched the cupboard warily. "Two." She cautiously raised her Taser. Playtime was over. "Three."

Dean swung open the door, revealing two startled young children, a boy and a girl, crouched inside, their ears covered. Calypso winced. The poor things were terrified. Just as she secretly was when she first met the Winchesters.

"Is it still here?" Sam whispered. The children nodded, scared to death.

"Ok," Dean told the boy. "Grab your sister's hand, come on, we gotta get you out of here. Let's go, let's go." They moved towards the stairs. "Alright, go!"

Sam began to take the children upstairs, Dean and Calypso staying at the bottom of the stairs to look for the creature they were hunting. Suddenly there was a crashing sound. Calypso whirled around to see Sam laying on the ground, pulled down the stairs by the monster. The children screamed, panicking, and ran to the top of the stairs.

"Sam!" Dean yelled. He shot his Taser, but the creature was already gone. "Sam, get 'em outta here!" Calypso noticed he was letting her fight with him. Probably just because it's a good idea to be defended by a girl who can't die.

"Here take this!" Sam called down the stairs, tossing his taser to Dean.

Then Sam ran up the stairs and guided the children out into the night. Calypso and Dean were the next targets.

They moved around the basement on high alert, shining the flashlights into every corner.

"Come and get us!" Calypso called, realizing the monster wasn't going to show without encouragement. "We don't bite... Usually!"

A ragged, hairy creature suddenly leaped up and shoved Dean backwards. Dean lost everything but the Taser as he fell. He rolled onto his back quickly and shot it at the creature. Unfortunately, the thing dodged. It was all up to Calypso now. She ran forward, going from defense to offense, and ducked out of the way as the creature tried to push back. As she turned around, Dean scrambled into a puddle of water to pick up his dropped flashlight. The creature took its attention back to Dean, the current weak link, and attacked him.

Calypso didn't even blink. It was a simple, clear shot, and she took it. She clicked the Taser and electricity surged out and hit the monster directly on the back. She laughed, expecting to hear Dean celebrate with her. But the sound from where Dean was wasn't what she was expecting to hear.

Calypso turned, terrified, to see Dean shaking and twitching in the corner. It took a moment for her to understand. When Calypso hit the monster, the electricity traveled through its body and into the water... Then into Dean. Her mouth fell open and there a shrill sound filled the air. Calypso realized after a second that it was her own scream.

Dean suddenly went still, and Calypso ran, panicking, to his side.

"Dean?" she asked, voice trembling as she shook his shoulder desperately. "DEAN!"

She was vaguely aware that tears were rapidly falling down her face.

Footsteps echoed around the room as they came down the stairs. It was Sam, who was hurrying, taking the steps two at a time at the sight of his brother.

"Dean!" Sam yelled. Calypso turned away in shame and terror. She killed him, didn't she? She killed everyone. Sam would be next, she knew it. But she couldn't let that happen.

She heard running as Sam sprinted to his brother, then lifted him up, holding his face between his hands.

"Dean, hey," Sam said desperately, trying to wake Dean up. "Hey."

"I-" Calypso started between sobs. "I didn't-"

"What happened?!" Sam yelled.

That was too much for her. The pain on Sam's face. His despair. It was just like hers.

Her knees gave out and she fell onto the ground, crying into her hands.

It didn't take long for an ambulance to get there, then they were at the hospital, anxiously awaiting news on Dean. Calypso sat, rocking back and forth in a waiting room chair while Sam talked to the receptionist. The cops stood next to her unsurely. Calypso was refusing to talk to anyone and even though the cops wanted her to tell the story from her point of view, she just sat there, not acknowledging them. They'd have to wait for Sam, held together much better, if they wanted to ask questions. Sam walked over to the pair of police men.

"Look, we can finish this up later," one of them said. "I can tell you and your sister are pretty shaken up."

"No, no, it's okay," Sam told him, not looking at Calypso. Of course he wouldn't. She hurt his brother. "We were just taking a shortcut through the neighborhood. And, um, the windows were rolled down, we heard some screaming when we drove past the house, and we stopped. Ran in."

"And you found the kids in the basement?" the cop clarified.

"Yeah," Sam agreed.

"Well, thank God you did," the police officer told him.

Calypso looked up to see a doctor walking towards Sam and her. She stood hastily and hurried over to the man, Sam close behind her.

"Hey, Doc. Is he..." Sam trailed off, not wanting to ask the question.

"He's resting," the doctor answered calmly.

"And?" Sam asked, wanting to know everything.

"The electrocution triggered a heart attack," the doctor explained. Calypso's breath caught in her throat. She did this, she hurt Dean. How could she? After last time... "Pretty massive, I'm afraid. His heart...it's damaged."

"How damaged?" Sam asked.

"We've done all we can," the doctor told him. "We can try and keep him comfortable at this point. But, I'd give him a couple weeks, at most, maybe a month."

It was like a blow to Calypso's chest. She gasped, her hands covering her mouth and tears welling up in her eyes. No, no, NO! Calypso killed him. She caused his death. She'd promised never to hurt anyone ever again. She promised!

"No," Calypso gasped, the tears escaping, that tiny spark of hope that Dean would survive, gone. "No!"

She turned around and ran. She couldn't face Sam or Dean right now. She had to leave, she had to get away. Calypso kept running, straight out the hospital doors and into the parking lot. This couldn't happen again. This couldn't be happening!

She went to the edge of the parking lot, into the trees bordering it, and collapsed, hidden from view by the bushes. Calypso pulled her knees up to her face and wrapped her arms around herself. She took one shaky breath after another, trying to calm herself down. She wouldn't be able to run away if she was stopped by someone who wanted to help her after seeing her tears.

Calypso didn't know how much time had passed when she heard footsteps on the pavement behind her.

"Callie?" Sam's voice asked. She didn't answer and he sighed. "I know you're there."

Calypso's tear-stained face peered around the bush, not able to look Sam in the eye. He took a few steps forward, but Calypso moved backwards just as much.

"Hey, it's okay," Sam told her. She hugged herself tightly and sniffed. "Dean might not be able to be healed by the doctors, but we know things they don't. He is going to be okay."

But it sounded more like Sam was trying to convince himself.

He waited expectantly for Calypso to respond, but she stayed quiet. Sam sighed.

"Dean wants you to visit him," Sam told her. "You should stay with him for however long it takes to find a cure."

Calypso's eyes shifted upwards, finally looking into Sam's.

"You aren't-" she said softly, wiping away tears. "You aren't mad?"

"No, of course not," Sam told her. "You didn't mean to hurt him, did you?" She shook her head sadly. "Exactly. Now go see Dean. He's waiting for you."

Calypso reluctantly agreed, and went up to Dean's hospital room.

_Knock_, _knock_, _knock_. Calypso tapped upon the door. A very pale Dean with dark circles underneath his eyes looked up at the doorway from his hospital bed. Her eyes widened. He seemed so weak, so defenseless. Seeing how bad of a state Dean was in, Calypso quickly turned around to leave again. She caused this. How could she?

"No, Callie, wait," Dean told her weakly. She froze and considered her options. By leaving, she'd get away and avoid the problem, whereas if she stayed it would hurt, but she would be facing herself. She slowly turned back around.

"I'm sorry," she told him emotionally, unable to make eye contact. "I-I shouldn't have-I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay," Dean interrupted. She shook her head and stepped further into the room.

"No, it's not," Calypso told him, her hand clutching onto her locket. "Don't try to comfort me or convince me that it isn't my fault, because I know it is. I hurt you, and now you're dying!"

"If you didn't kill the thing, it would've killed me anyway," Dean pointed out. "You lengthened my life, if you look at it that way."

Calypso's eyes shined with tears.

"But I don't," she told him softly. "You just... You don't understand."

"Then, please, explain your thinking," Dean said. Calypso sat on the edge of his bed gently. She sighed, trying to get rid of the lump in her throat.

"I should've known this was coming. I should've been long gone months ago. It was predictable... Death follows me everywhere," Calypso admitted, holding her hands in her lap. "I stayed here too long. If I'd just left when I had the chance..."

"Callie, that has nothing to do with this," Dean tried to convince her. She shook her head persistently, refusing to look at it another way.

"I told you how I was never accepted where I lived, remember?" Calypso asked, the memories coming to the front of her mind. She shut her eyes and bit her lip to try to stop it, though she knew it wouldn't work. Dean nodded. "That's because anyone who was nice to me, anyone who even said hi, died. Everyone I loved, everyone who loved me, dropped dead! I should've known you or Sam were next. I should've protected you!"

"Callie-"

"No!" she cried, standing up and beginning to pace back and forth, arms hugging herself. "I knew this was coming! But I was so happy here, I tried to convince myself that it wouldn't happen this time. A new start, a new life... But it wasn't!" Her hands grabbed a handful of her black hair and pulled on it. "You're dying! And it's because of me! Just like Mom, Uncle Seb, Sara... They died because they were close to me. Everyone I love is gone, don't you understand?! And now I added you to the list!"

"Callie, it's not your fault," Dean said, trying to pull Calypso out of her breakdown. "It was just an acci-"

"Don't," Calypso interrupted quickly, something new flashing in her eyes. Determination. "You need rest. You-you need to recover. I'm making sure you get better!"

"You can't," Dean told her gently. "I'm dying. You can't help it. It's not like you can work miracles."

Calypso's face, already terrified and sorrowful, showed even more emotion as Dean told her to lose hope. She couldn't. Hope was all she had at this point.

"I can't just let you die," Calypso told him. "Especially not when I caused it."

"Callie, do you really want to help?" Dean asked. She nodded vigorously. "Don't blame yourself. I can't spend the rest of my life with you constantly crying next to me. That's a depressing way to die. Cheer up a bit."

That wouldn't happen. Calypso never cheered up. She never saw the glass half full. That was only when she was younger. Now she only saw pain and suffering around her. There was nothing happy. Nothing to celebrate. But for Dean's sake, she could pretend.

"Get some sleep," Calypso ordered, not acknowledging Dean's statement. "You need your strength."

"Come on, I was unconscious half the day!" Dean complained.

"Just because you were unconscious, doesn't mean you were resting," Calypso pointed out. Dean surrendered and leaned back on the hospital bed as Calypso turned off the lights.

"Man, this thing is so uncomfortable," Dean complained after a moment. Calypso smiled, looking around the room for a place to sit.

"If you want, I can sing a lullaby," Calypso offered. "Mom used to sing it to me when I was younger."

It was quiet as Dean considered. Calypso knew what he was thinking. He wasn't a baby, he didn't need a lullaby. Calypso looked down through the dark, embarrassed.

"Never mind, I get it," Calypso said, revoking her offer. "It's too young for you."

"No, no, go ahead," Dean told her quickly. "I want to hear it."

Calypso smiled, her heart light and bursting with warm joy.

"It's pretty old and in Latin," Calypso said. "It's about sleep and healing, I think."

Then she began singing, her voice soft and sweet, like a gentle caress.

_"Sanabitur puer_

_Ne aut sanguis vulnerum_

_Non sit malum_

_Requiem somnus restitui_

_Requiem est_

_Curabitur elit_

_Dixerunt non tanget te_

_Vulnus, et cicatrix, _

_Sanari potest tolli_

_Corrigi possint figi_

_Non nocet, nec nocet_

_Requiem est_

_Curabitur elit_

_Dixerunt non tanget te_

_Requiem est_

_Curabitur elit_

_Dixerunt non tanget te,"_

Three days later, Dean checked himself out of the hospital. Calypso didn't stop him. She let him do what he wanted, since he was dying. Since she killed him.

They went to the motel room Sam was staying in, and Calypso knocked on the door while Dean leaned against the jam, weak. Sam opened it after a moment, surprised when he saw Dean.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sam asked, surprised, happy, and confused all at once.

"I checked myself out," Dean told him with a smug smile.

"What, are you crazy?" Sam asked. "Why'd you let him leave?" he asked Calypso. She shrugged.

"He's an adult," Calypso said, carefully disguising her voice like she had all morning, sounding emotionless. It was stage two of her grieving process, after an emotional breakdown. "A dying one, but still responsible for himself. I stayed with him like you asked me to. It's not my fault he left."

Dean entered the room, leaning on everything he could reach, including Calypso's arm.

"Well, I'm not gonna die in a hospital where the nurses aren't even hot," Dean joked. He shrugged as Sam laughed and shut the door.

"You know, this whole I-laugh-in-the-face-of-death thing? It's crap. I can see right through it," Sam told his brother.

"Yeah, whatever, dude," Dean replied, shrugging off the statement. "Have you even slept? You look worse than me. Hell, none of us look too good right now."

Calypso shrugged. She was always like this. Maybe the constant crying when no one was looking contributed to the dark circles under her eyes

"I've been scouring the Internet for the last three days," Sam said, he and Calypso helping Dean to a chair. "Calling every contact in Dad's journal."

"For what?" Dean asked.

"For a way to help you," Sam told him. "One of Dad's friends, Joshua, he called me back. Told me about a guy in Nebraska. A specialist."

Calypso blinked, unable to process the information for a moment, then a wide grin came across her face. There was hope. Dean could be cured!

"You're not gonna let me die in peace, are you?" Dean asked, exasperated.

"I'm not gonna let you die, period," Sam disagreed with a smile. "We're going."

It was raining when they parked outside a large white circus tent, in the middle of an empty field. Calypso peered out the window curiously. She saw people making their way towards the tent across the sticky, muddy ground, many using crutches or walkers, many more leaning on another person. It was hard for her to look at all of them. These were good people. They didn't deserve to be sick.

Calypso had always wondered why there were some deadly diseases that didn't have anyone working on a treatment. That's why Calypso used to want to be a scientist or surgeon, so that she would save people's lives with her work. Of course, that was when she thought she would have a future, go to college. At least she was saving people now, more than she would have with a normal career. She preferred this.

The front door of the car opened, and Sam emerged, running around to the other side to help Dean. Calypso followed behind slowly, knowing Dean wouldn't want to be helped. And frankly, she didn't want to help him. He'd only end up getting hurt.

Calypso turned to tent, taking it in. It didn't look very permanent, but it seemed pretty stable, which was a good thing. Calypso would rather not be squished by a tent today. There was a sign next to it that read, _The Church of Roy LeGrange. Faith Healer. Witness the miracle_.

She never really believed in faith healers. Though she believed in God and angels whole-heartedly, faith healers were just a scam. They wanted money and nothing else. They were simply greedy. There were no miracles. After all, if God healed people through them, why didn't he seek out her mom and heal her that night?

She turned around again, bitter, and looked at Dean as he grimaced while pulling himself out of the car. Sam tried to help, but Calypso knew Dean wouldn't let him. It was just Dean trying to be strong.

"I got ya," Sam said, trying to support Dean.

"I got it," Dean replied angrily, pushing his brother away. "Man, you are a lying bastard. I thought you said we were going to see a doctor."

"He said specialist, didn't he?" Calypso asked in a monotone. As she glanced at the tent again, she caught Sam and Dean exchange a concerned look. It was for the right reason.

After Calypso had had her breakdown, she decided to cut. Her arms, her legs, her stomach, anywhere she could reach. It was more than she usually did, but she needed to drain herself of the emotions overwhelming her, or she would go insane. Emotion was weakness. It had to be concealed, or it would be used against you, twisted by someone hoping to get you hurt.

"Look, Dean, this guy's supposed to be the real deal," Sam tried to reassure him.

"I can't believe you brought me here to see some guy who heals people out of a tent," Dean complained, but they still began to move towards the entrance. An elderly woman with an umbrella passed by and heard Dean's comment.

"Reverend LeGrange is a great man," she told them. Calypso rolled her eyes as the woman left her vision.

"Yeah, that's nice," Dean said sarcastically.

They walked past an angry man remonstrating with a cop, both of which looking extremely annoyed.

"I have a right to protest," the man argued. "This man is a fraud. And he's milking all these people out of their hard-earned money."

"That's more like it," Calypso said under her breath. Nobody noticed.

"Sir, this is a place of worship," the police officer told him, exasperated. "Let's go. Move it." They walked away.

"I take it he's not part of the flock," Dean told Sam and Calypso.

"But when people see something they can't explain, there's controversy," Sam pointed out.

"I mean, come on, Sam, a faith healer?" Dean complained.

"Maybe it's time to have a little faith, Dean," Sam told him.

"You know what I've got faith in?" Dean asked rhetorically. "Reality. Knowing what's really going on."

"How can you be a skeptic?" Sam asked, honestly sounding confused. "With the things we see every day?"

"Exactly," Dean agreed. "We see them, we know there real."

"But if you know evil's out there, how can you not believe good's out there, too?" Sam asked. Dean glanced over at Calypso, who stared straight ahead emotionlessly, refusing to look right or left.

"Because I've seen what evil does to good people," Dean replied with a frown.

"Maybe God works in mysterious ways," a young woman said, overhearing their conversation as she walked by. She stopped and turned to look at them. The woman had thin blonde hair and very pale skin, almost as light as Calypso's.

"Maybe he does," Dean said, checking her out and smiling. Calypso twitched half her mouth up, vaguely amused. There were some things imminent death just couldn't change. "I think you just turned me around on the subject."

"Yeah, I'm sure," the woman said, faintly sarcastic.

Dean held out his hand to her.

"I'm Dean," he introduced himself. "This is Sam, and this is Callie."

The woman took Dean's hand and shook it.

"Layla," the woman said. Calypso had always liked that name. "So, if you're not a believer, then why are you here?"

"Well, apparently my brother here believes enough for the three of us," Dean said. An older woman approached and put her arm around Layla. Calypso guessed the woman was Layla's mother.

"Come on, Layla," the woman said, excited. "It's about to start."

The two women smiled at the trio, then moved inside the tent. Dean stared after her.

"Well, I bet you she can work in some mysterious ways," Dean said. Calypso was used to Dean's comments and just ignored them at this point. But she had something to say about this one.

"Layla's sick," she said, eyebrows furrowed and a concentrated frown on her face. "Seriously sick. I don't think she has very long. A few months, maybe?"

Dean raised his eyebrows and looked at Sam, both impressed.

"How did you know that?" Sam asked, curious. Not the scared curious that Calypso was used to, but appreciative curious.

"It just kinda hit me," she said, shrugging though her body was stiff. "Guess it happens when you're not human."

Without another word, they entered the tent.

Inside the tent, people were competing to find the best seats, closest to a small stage at the front.

"Yeah, peace, love, and trust all over," Calypso heard Dean say from behind her. She looked back, then followed Dean's gaze to a security camera. Dean was right. It seemed a bit ironic.

Dean began to take a seat in the back with Calypso standing close by, but Sam out an arm around his brother and trying to lead him to the front. Rolling her eyes, Calypso followed.

"Come on," Sam said.

"Don't!" Dean told him. "What are you doing? Let's sit here."

Calypso agreed. She hated being at the front of anything.

"We're sitting up front," Sam told them stubbornly.

"What? Why?" asked Dean.

"Come on," Sam said, moving Dean up the aisle.

"Oh, come on, Sam," Dean growled.

"You alright?" Calypso asked, stepping up next to Dean. "If you need help, just ask."

"This is ridiculous," was Dean's only reply.

Sam looked back at the two, then pointed to three chairs in the front, right behind Layla and her mother.

"Perfect," Sam said. Calypso was confused. They were just chairs. If this was real, which it wasn't, the healer would find the person destined to be healed somewhere in the crowd. What did it matter where they sat?

"Yeah, perfect," Dean repeated sarcastically. Sam let Calypso take the first seat, then moved into the middle.

"You take the aisle," Sam told his brother. Sam tried to help Dean sit, but Dean just raised a hand irritably. He was sick and tired of being treated like a child.

On the stage, an old blind man wearing sunglasses was helped to the lectern by a blonde haired woman. Calypso furrowed her eyebrows. The man didn't seem like much, but she knew who it was. Roy LeGrange. Silence swept over the room and a moment passed.

"Each morning, my wife, Sue Ann, reads me the news," he began. So the woman who helped him up on stage must have been Sue Ann. "Never seems good, does it?" The crowd loudly agreed with him, and Calypso looked around uncomfortably. It was like a cult. "Seems like there's always someone committing some immoral, unspeakable act."

"Tell me about it," Calypso muttered bitterly.

"But, I say to you, God is watching," Roy said, as if it was proven fact. Well, it certainly wasn't proven, but Calypso still agreed with at least one part of the speech.

"Yes he is," the crowd murmured. Yup, definitely a cult, Calypso decided.

"God rewards the good, and He punishes the corrupt," Roy told his followers. The crowd nodded and cheered. "It is the Lord who does the healing here, friends," Roy tried to convince the audience. Sure it was. "The Lord who guides me in choosing who to heal by helping me see into people's hearts." The crowd continued to murmur.

"Yeah, and into their wallets," Dean said quietly to Sam and Calypso.

"You think so, young man?" Roy asked. The crowd became dead silent and Calypso smirked. Of course Dean got caught. He should've just kept his mouth shut.

"Sorry," Dean apologized, embarrassed by getting called out in front of everyone.

"No, no," Roy told him. "Don't be. Just watch what you say around a blind man, we've got real sharp ears." The crowd laughed at the weak joke. "What's your name, son?"

Dean cleared his throat, hesitating.

"Dean," he finally said.

"Dean," Roy repeated. He nodded to himself. "I want-I want you to come up here with me."

The crowd clapped and Sue Ann moved to the center of the stage, smiling at Dean. It made Calypso uneasy, how cheerful everyone was.

"No, it's ok," Dean declined, shaking his head. Calypso was confused. Wasn't this what they came out here to do?

"What are you doing?!" Sam whispered to Dean.

"You've come here to be healed, haven' cha?" Roy asked. Obviously they did. But if Calypso was in Dean's shoes, she would refuse the offer, too. So many other people deserved to be healed. It would make her feel guilty to take it for herself.

Dean hesitated again.

"Well, yeah, but ah..." Dean began, before being interrupted by the crowd clapping and making other encouraging noises. "Maybe you should just pick someone else."

Sam looked at Dean as if he was insane, but Calypso understood completely. He didn't feel worthy. He didn't think he stood out. But Dean was the person most worthy of life in the room. The crowd cheered.

"Oh, no," Roy told him, amused. "I didn't pick you, Dean, the Lord did."

The crowd got even more excited, even louder, and Calypso looked around nervously. She hated crowds, and was beginning to feel the walls close in on her.

"Get up there!" she heard Sam tell Dean excitedly. She saw Dean reluctantly rise and walk towards the stage out of the corner of her eye. She focused herself and made her eyes follow him. Sue Anne moved from the stage to assist Dean, and stood him next to Roy. They seemed to exchange a few words that Calypso couldn't make out, then Roy turned to the crowd.

"Pray with me, friends," he told the crowd.

Everyone around Calypso lifted up their arms and joined hands with each other. When the person next to her offered their hand, Calypso just shook her head.

Roy lifted his hands into the air, then placed one on Dean's shoulder, which gradually found its way to the hair on the side of Dean's head. It was amusing how uncomfortable he looked.

"Alright now," Roy said to himself. "Alright now."

Calypso looked down at her hands suddenly, goose bumps rising up all over her body. She looked up at Dean again, shaking, and gasped.

Dean and Roy weren't alone. There was an old, deformed man in a black suit standing next to Dean. Eyes wide, she watched with baited breath as the man placed his hand upon Dean's forehead and Dean's eyes glazed over. She stood up, ready to attack the man, and Dean sank to his knees, both hands still on his head.

"Alright, now," Roy said again.

Alright? No, this was not alright. This was wrong. Whoever the man was, Calypso could sense his anger, his struggle. Whatever he was doing, the man didn't want to do it.

Dean wobbled, his eyes rolling back and he slipped to the stage floor, the hands finally letting go. The wrinkled man stayed, looking down at Dean. Oh, God. What happened?

"Dean!" Sam yelled as he jumped up from his chair and ran to the stage. Calypso just stood there, shocked and terrified. What was going on? She drowned out the crowd's excited cheers and locked eyes with the man, who simply stared at her.

She tore her eyes away and watched Sam grab the front of Dean's hoodie, his brother's eyes bursting open as he gasped. Calypso sighed in relief. Dean was okay. Then what was the man doing? Why did she seem to be the only one able to see him?

"Say something!" Sam told Dean. Dean looked up, blinking groggily, and looked behind Roy, where the man was standing. He stared and Calypso looked between the two. She wasn't the only one that could see the man. Dean could, too!

The pale old man stared down at Dean, emotionless. Calypso knew the man had something to do with healing Dean, and she couldn't help but be suspicious. This doesn't happen without a price. She wanted to go up and attack it, no questions asked.

But then she blinked, and it was gone.

Sam and Calypso took Dean to the hospital for a checkup the next day. They were relieved to find out that Dean's heart was as good as new, but then the doctor told them that a young guy had a heart attack the day before and died. Dean and Calypso knew they had to check it out.

"Maybe it's a coincidence," Sam said hopefully. "People's hearts give out all the time."

"Not a 27 year old athletic guy," Calypso pointed out. Since Dean had been healed, she'd felt so much happier, and it was noticeable. But if she had caused the death of this innocent man, she would sink back. Perhaps not as much, but she still might've been the source of the man's death.

"Look, guys, do we really have to look this one in the mouth?" Sam asked, desperately hoping there was no connection. "Why can't we just be thankful that the guy saved your life and move on?"

"Because I can't shake this feeling, that's why," Dean told him.

"What feeling?" Sam asked.

"When I was healed, I just...I felt wrong," Dean told them. "I felt cold. And for a second... I saw someone."

"A really pale, wrinkly, old man?" Calypso asked. She didn't want to bring it up the day before, when Dean had just been healed. He had needed to rest, so she let him. "In a black suit?"

"You saw him, too?" Dean asked. Calypso's mouth quirked up in response. "It was a spirit, then, wasn't it." Calypso nodded.

"He seemed angry," Calypso remembered. "He didn't want to heal you, he was being forced to. And he had to touch you in order to heal you, if I remember correctly."

"Great," Dean said sarcastically. "A spirit on a leash."

"But if there was something there, guys, I think I would've seen it, too," Sam said, hoping against the clear facts. "I mean, I've been seeing an awful lot of things lately."

"You aren't the one who senses ghosts though," Dean pointed out. "You're just gonna need a little faith on this one. It's two against one, here."

"Yeah, alright," Sam reluctantly agreed with a sigh. "So, what do you wanna do?"

"I want you and Callie to go check out the heart attack guy," Dean told him. "I'm gonna visit the reverend."

When they visited the swimming pool that the man died at, that he used to swim they talked to an employee that saw the entire thing. He told them how, before the man died, he claimed something was chasing him. As they were leaving, Sam noticed that the clock on the wall was broken. Calypso and Sam quickly figured out that it was stuck at the time when the man died.

And the exact time Dean was healed.

Calypso locked herself in the bathroom as soon as they got back to the motel room and sat on the floor with her knees to her chest, leaning against the door. She looked up at the bright lights above the mirror. Why did she have to mess everything up? Yeah, she was glad Dean was better, but she never wanted someone else to die in the process.

She heard the door slam and Dean's heavy footsteps, then the jingle of keys as he threw them on the bed, like he always did.

"What'd you find out?" Dean asked Sam, who was probably sitting by his laptop.

"I'm sorry," Sam said quietly. There was a quiet thump, Dean's jacket hitting the bed, most likely, then more footsteps as he walked over to Sam.

"Sorry about what?" Dean asked, suspecting, but needing a full answer.

"Marshall Hall died at 4:17," Sam told his brother.

"The exact time I was healed," Dean realized, stunned.

"Yeah," Sam said. "So, I put together a list of everyone Roy's healed, six people over the past year, and I cross-checked them with the local obits. Every time someone was healed, someone else died. And each time, the victim died of the same symptom LeGrange was healing at the time."

"Someone's healed of cancer, someone else dies of cancer?" Dean clarified.

"Somehow," Sam agreed. "LeGrange...he's trading a life for another."

"Wait, wait, wait," Dean said. "So, Marshall Hall died to save me?"

Calypso buried her face in her knees, arms wrapped around herself, trying to keep herself together.

"Dean, the guy probably would've died anyway," Sam said, sounding upset. "And someone else would've been healed."

"You never should've brought me here," Dean said accusingly.

"Dean, I was just trying to save your life," Sam said, void of emotion.

"But, Sam, some guy is dead now because of me," Dean pointed out.

"I didn't know," Sam told him. "The thing I don't understand is how is Roy doing it? How's he trading a life for a life?"

"Oh, he's not doing it," Dean said, seeming to know what was going on. "Something else is doing it for him."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked. Calypso listened closely.

"The old man Callie and I saw on stage," Dean explained. "I didn't wanna believe it, but deep down I knew."

Calypso quickly got up and opened the bathroom door, stepping into the room with her family.

"You're gonna need to say more than that," she told Dean. "What did you know?"

Dean looked at her for a moment.

"I was wondering where you were," Dean told her. She looked at him silently, waiting for him to get on with it. He sighed. "There's only one thing that can give and take life like that." Sam and Calypso looked blankly at Dean, confused. "We're dealing with a reaper."

A moment later, the three were sitting at the table, pages of research stacked before them.

"You really think it's THE Grim Reaper?" Sam asked. "Like, angel of death, collect your soul, the whole deal?"

"No no no, not THE reaper, A reaper," Dean explained. "There's reaper law in pretty much every culture on earth, it goes by 100 different names, it's possible that there's more than one of them."

"But you said you saw a dude in a suit," Sam said, turning to Calypso.

"What, did you expect the whole black robe thing?" Calypso asked. "That doesn't flatter anyone."

"You said it yourself that the clock stopped right?" Dean told Sam. "Reapers stop time. And you can only see 'em when they're coming at you which is why I could see it and you couldn't."

"What about me?" Calypso asked, knowing there wouldn't be a real answer, just a guess.

"Well..." Dean began, thinking up an answer. "You can sense spirits, why not reapers?"

Calypso shrugged.

"I guess that's as good an answer as any," she said. "Could be." She turned to Sam. "What do you think?"

"Maybe," Sam said, doubtful.

"There's nothing else it could be Sam," Dean told him. "The question is how is Roy controlling the damn thing?"

It was quiet a moment before Sam had an idea.

"That cross," he said, as if it explained everything. Dean and Calypso exchanged a baffled look.

"What?" Dean asked for both of them.

"There was this cross," Sam explained. "I noticed it in the church and I knew I had seen it before." Sam looked through some papers and snorted. He held up a card for Dean and Calypso to see. "Here."

Dean leaned in and took the card.

"A tarot?" Dean asked, as confused as Calypso.

"It makes sense," Sam said. "A tarot dates back to the early Christian era right, when some priests were still using magic? And a few of them veered into the dark stuff? Necromancy and how to push death away, how to cause it?"

"So Roy's using black magic to bind the reaper?" Dean asked.

"If he is he's riding the whirlwind," Sam said. "It's like putting a dog leash on a great white."

"That explains its anger," Calypso realized.

Dean rose up to put his cup in the sink, then leaned against it.

"Ok then we stop Roy," he told them.

"How?" Calypso asked.

"You know how," Dean told her. It took a moment for her to understand, then she shook her head quickly.

"Wait, what the hell are you talking about Dean, we can't kill Roy," Sam said for her.

"Sam the guy's playing God, he's deciding who lives and who dies," Dean told him. "That's a monster in my book."

"No," Calypso said confidently, for once. "We're not killing a human being. No

matter how evil, how twisted they are... A life is worth something. We aren't

taking that away. If we do, it makes us just as bad as he is."

"Ok, we can't kill Roy, we can't kill death," Dean listed. He turned to Sam. "Any bright ideas college boy?

"Ok," Sam said, thinking. "Uh... If Roy's using some kind of black spell on the reaper, we gotta...figure out what it is. And how to break it."

Calypso nodded.

She liked this plan much better.

The Impala bounced down the badly graveled and potholed road again, on the way to another service of Roy's, as told by the sign that passed by Calypso's window. Dean parked the car and the trio exited the impala.

"If Roy's using a spell, there might be a spell book," Sam told Dean and Calypso.

"See if you can find it," Dean told Sam. Obviously Sam would try to find it. Why else would he bring it up? Calypso was working with morons. Dean looked at his watch quickly. "Hurry up too, the service starts in fifteen minutes. Callie and I will try to stall Roy."

"And how are we supposed to do that?" Calypso muttered. She didn't want to call attention to herself during the service, but there was no time to think anything up.

As they walked to the tent, the man that was protesting the last time they were there came up to the group. He handed a leaflet to Dean.

"Roy LeGrange is a fraud," the man told them. "He's no healer."

"True that," Calypso said. She saw Dean smile.

"You keep up the good work," Sam told the man.

"Thank you," the man said. It seemed as though nobody believed him. Of course, the Winchesters and Calypso did.

It was their job to.

Calypso closely followed Dean as they went back into the tent. She hated being closed in with all those people around her, but being near someone she trusted helped her a bit. They walked slowly up the right side aisle, trying to think of how to stall the service. So far, they hadn't come up with anything at all. Then Dean's phone rang. He picked up without hesitating, knowing it was Sam, and Calypso tried to understand what she could from Dean's side of the conversation.

"What have you got?" Dean asked. There was a pause as Sam responded, an answer Calypso couldn't hear as she peered around the tent. "What, the guy in the parking lot?" Calypso frowned. What guy in the parking lot? The protester? What did he have to do with this?No other words were spoken before Dean hung up, and led Calypso to the front of the tent.

"Okay, so Sam found out that Roy's choosing victims he thinks are immoral," Dean quickly explained. "And he thinks the protester guy in the parking lot is the next on his list."

"But..." Calypso said, confused, bringing her questions up. "How is Roy so organized? He's blind! How does he know how to control the reaper without someone telling him? He can't read. This just doesn't make sense!"

Dean shrugged, but clearly Calypso's questions bothered him. He didn't have time, because at that moment Roy announced who would be healed at the service.

"Layla," Roy called, his covered eyes looking into the crowd. "Layla Rourke. Come up here child."

The crowd burst into pleased applause, many of them knowing Layla from attending the services with her, seeing her at each one. They must have been glad that she was chosen. Layla, stunned, rose to hug her mother, a smile on her face.

"Mom," Layla said. "Thank you."

"I love you child," her mother told her, seeming about ready to cry.

Dean and Calypso exchanged an apprehensive look, watching the mother and daughter hug. How were they supposed to keep Layla from going up? Dean had told Calypso about Layla's brain tumor, how Calypso was right about her not having much time yet. Layla was kind. She deserved to be healed.

"Oh shit," Calypso whispered.

"That about covers it," Dean agreed.

As Layla passed by the pair, Dean grabbed her arm.

"Layla, listen to me," Dean said intensely. "You can't go up there."

"Why not?" Layla asked. Calypso looked away, knowing that by not letting Layla get healed, she'd die in a month. "We've waited for months!"

"You can't let him heal you," Calypso told her, as gently and quietly as possible.

"I don't understand, Roy healed you didn't he?" Layla said to Dean, turning to him. "Why can't you let him try?"

"Cause if you do, something bad is going to happen," Dean explained to his best ability, so he wouldn't sound insane. "I can't explain. I just need you to believe me."

Dean and Layla stared at each other, Calypso's eyes darting around the room. She saw Sue Ann waiting on the stage, Roy behind her, Layla's mother watching hopefully, and the crowd staring with baited breath. Sue Ann held out her hand.

"Layla," she said simply.

"Please," Dean begged.

Layla looked longingly at Sue Ann's hand, offering Layla a life, a future, then turned around to look at her mother, standing and now wringing her hands. Her mother simply nodded at her. Nobody else was against this. Calypso and Dean were fighting a losing battle.

Layla looked at Calypso, then Dean, and shook her head.

"I'm sorry," Layla told him, continuing her walk up to the stage.

"Layla," Dean called after her, frustrated. "Layla!"

Calypso simply shook her head in defeat. What now? How were they supposed to stop this?

Sue Ann smiled and put her arm around Layla to guide her up onto the stage.

"Dear child!" Sue Ann exclaimed. The crowd continued to clap happily.

Roy took Layla's hand between his.

"I knew the Lord was planning," Roy claimed. Calypso rolled her eyes. Of course he did. "I knew it was just a matter of time."

Calypso didn't notice as Dean moved back to stand next to Layla's mother, who was crying and covering her face with her hands. Her daughter was going to live. She wouldn't have to bury her before her time.

"Pray with me friends," Roy said, just like the last time. He raised his hands and was about to lay them on an enraptured looking Layla, when Dean finally thought up a distraction.

"FIRE!" Dean yelled from behind Calypso. She turned around, stunned that Dean would resort to something so weak. But he didn't really have a choice, did he? "Hurry, tent's on fire!"

Calypso looked around as the crowd began to evacuate wildly. She vaguely heard the protests of Layla's mother, but was quickly caught up in the crowd and shoved out the door, though she fought to stay inside.

While outside, Calypso searched the crowd for Dean. She was pressed by people on each side. Was it just her, or was the air getting harder to breathe?

"Sorry," Calypso apologized as she elbowed her way out of the group of people and into the open air. "Sorry. Excuse me."

Finally she was free of the crowd, but Calypso still couldn't find Dean. Was he still inside?

Her question was answered a moment later when two cops manhandled Dean through the door of the tent. Clearly annoyed, he shook them off as soon as they were outside. What did he do now?

Then Sue Ann exited right behind them. Calypso stared at her a moment and it suddenly clicked. Sue Ann was controlling the reaper, not Roy. She was desperate, since Roy was in a coma, dying of cancer, or so Dean told her a few days before, and controlled the reaper to keep Roy alive. Then, when Roy was all better, she decided to punish the people she thought were wicked. But they weren't wicked. She was.

"I just don't understand," Sue Ann said in her faked sweet voice. Calypso bit her cheek, consumed by anger. She was fooling everyone. Why couldn't Calypso have seen it before? "After everything we've done for you. After Roy healed you. I'm just very, very disappointedm Dean." Dean just stared at her, saying nothing in his classic Dean style. "You can let him go. I'm not gonna press charges. The Lord will deal with him as he sees fit."

Sue Ann walked away, right by Calypso, and her nose was quickly filled by the overwhelming scent of too much perfume. Sue Ann was trying much too hard.

Calypso watched the cops turn to Dean, trying to be macho. It wasn't working.

"We catch you round here again son, we'll put the fear of God in you, understand?" One cop told Dean.

"Yes sir, fear of god," Dean repeated mockingly. "Got it."

Calypso grinned as Dean was pushed forward by the cops, then went to join him as he turned to see Layla.

"Why would you do that Dean?" Layla asked accusingly as Calypso walked up. "And it could have been my only chance."

"He's not a healer," Dean told her.

"He healed you," Layla pointed out.

"At a huge cost," Calypso said, angry. Dean gave her a warning look and she looked away.

"I know it doesn't seem fair, and I wish I could explain," Dean told Layla, turning back to her. "But Roy is not the answer, I'm sorry."

"Goodbye Dean, Callie," Layla said, shaking her head sadly. She walked away. Calypso watched her walk away, mad at herself, mad at Sue Ann, mad at the world. It wasn't fair. Layla suddenly turned back around. "I wish you both luck. I really do."

It made Calypso want to punch something. People could be so genuinely nice, but they always ended up having the worst things happen to them. Why them, of all the people in the world? Why the kind ones.

"Same to you," Dean told her, voice cracking, as Calypso nodded mutely. Layla turned to walk away again. Calypso wasn't supposed to hear what Dean said next, under his breath, but she did anyway, and it bothered her. "You deserve it a lot more than me."

Nobody deserved life more than Dean. And Sam of course. They were good people, who had a purpose. To save others. They did their best, saved everyone they could. They deserved to keep on living, when so many others didn't.

Layla walked past where her mother was talking to Roy and Sue Ann. Calypso and Dean caught a piece of the conversation as they walked past them to where Sam was waiting.

"…Private session tonight, no interruptions," Roy promised Layla's mother. "I give you my word, I'll heal your daughter."

Uh oh.

"Thank you reverend," Layla's mother said. "God bless you."

Couldn't things be easy for once?

After that mess, the three went back to their motel room.

"So Roy really believes," Sam asked, sitting on the bed.

"I don't think he has any idea what his wife's doing," Dean told him, peering out the window. He turned back to Sam and Calypso.

"He thinks he's doing God's honest work," Calypso commented. "And maybe he's innocent, but Sue Ann..."

There was a pause as she shook her head in disgust and anger.

"Well, I found this," Sam told them. He handed a small black book to Dean and Calypso moved next to him so she could see. "Hidden in their library. It's ancient. Written by a priest who went dark side. There's a binding spell in here for trapping a reaper."

"Must be a hell of a spell," Dean said. Calypso agreed. The anger she felt coming from the reaper was scary. How someone could reign that in, she had no clue.

Dean began flipping through the pages.

"Yeah. You gotta build a black alter with seriously dark stuff. Bones, human

blood-" Sam said.

"Yuck," Calypso interrupted, sticking her tongue out like a toddler.

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "To cross a line like that, a preacher's wife. Black magic.

Murder." He exhaled quickly. "Evil."

"Desperate," Dean realized. That was certainly a way to look at it. "Her husband was dying, she didn't have anything to save him." He tapped the book. "She was using the binding spell to keep the reaper away from Roy."

"Cheating death, literally," Sam said.

"Shouldn't have done that," Calypso said. "It's just gonna come back to bite her in the ass."

"Yeah, that's true," Dean agreed. "But Roy's alive, so why is she still using the spell?"

"Right," Sam said, remembering the reason they all knew. "To force the reaper to kill people she thinks are immoral."

"May God save us from half the people who think they're doing God's work," Dean said. Calypso frowned and looked away, out the window, refusing to look at Sam or Dean. Clearly Dean said something wrong.

"We gotta break that binding spell," Sam said after a moment.

Calypso snorted.

"Obviously," she said, looking back at them.

Dean peered down at the picture of a cross in an old book.

"You know Sue Ann had a coptic cross like this," Dean remembered. "When she dropped it the reaper backed off."

"So you think we gotta find the cross or destroy the alter?" Sam asked.

"Both, probably, if we wanna get the job done," Calypso said. "My best bet is the necklace, since she has it on her all the time. The altar would be harder to protect. Still, better safe than sorry."

"Whatever we do we better do it soon, or he's healing Layla tonight," Dean told them. Calypso nodded, her jaw set.

"All right," she said, getting up. "Let's go."

The impala rolled stealthily into the parking lot of Roy's tent, lights off, and stopped next to a familiar looking vehicle.

"That's Layla's car," Sam said, pointing out the obvious. "She's already here."

"Yeah," Dean said, nodding sadly.

"Dean..." Sam sighed.

"You know if Roy would've picked Layla instead of me she'd be here right now," Dean said, dwelling on the sad fact. "And if she's not healed tonight she's gonna die in a couple of months."

"Don't say that," Calypso told him, an edge on her voice. "You can't blame yourself. What happened, happened, and we can't go back and change it." She tucked a strand of wavy black hair behind her ear. "Yeah, what's happening to her is just awful, but by healing her, some innocent person would drop dead. Miracles never come free. There's always a cost. Maybe you pay it immediately, maybe after a few years, but you always pay it. Or get someone to pay it for you." She sighed. "Like you said, you can't play God."

Dean sat in the driver's seat silently, before getting out of the car without answering. Calypso followed with a sigh. She said too much, didn't she. She didn't mean to, everything just came out too fast. Now she ruined it, naturally. She made Dean feel bad about himself, or see her strangely. Why did she have to open her mouth?

She ran after Sam and Dean, approaching the tent and watched them peek inside. Calypso barely caught a glimpse of Roy speaking to a small group of people, Layla and her mother included. But wait. Sue Ann wasn't one of them.

"Where's Sue Ann?" Dean asked, the same thought crossing his mind.

"House," Sam realized. He turned to Calypso. "You stay here. Make sure Roy doesn't heal anyone."

Calypso smiled deviously.

"I'll burn down the place if I have to," she said with an excited gleam in her eye. Then it was quickly extinguished as she looked down at her boots. "Dean, I'm sorry about what I said in the car. I didn't mean to-"

"Callie, it's fine," Dean interrupted. Her gaze slowly shifted up again, curious. Dean looked up, not meeting her questioning eyes. "Truth is, maybe I needed to hear it."

Calypso nodded, then got her game face back on.

"Okay, you two get to the house and check it out, then," Calypso said. "Holler if you need me, I guess."

"Will do," Dean told her. "Just, uh, don't hurt anyone. No burning down tents."

Calypso grinned and watched them run off into the dark.

Then she assumed her position, crouching on the ground and peering through the crack where the door was in the tent.

A few minutes went by quietly, with the exception the cheers of the group inside the tent. Then Calypso jumped, hearing the sudden barking of a ferocious sounding dog. She settled down, laughing at herself. She faced monsters and demons almost daily now, but was startled by a dog. Nice going, Calypso.

She looked up, around the corner she was halfway hidden behind, as long as nobody was looking straight at her, and spied a very familiar looking blonde haired woman.

"Sue Ann," Calypso whispered, cursing her luck. Why was Sue Ann here? Weren't Sam and Dean supposed to have stopped her? Where were they? Were they okay?

"I gave you life," Sue Ann whispered to nobody, a dangerous look in her eyes. "I can take it away."

Sue Ann looked around cautiously, and pulled out a cross necklace from her shirt. Calypso held her breath as the woman started chanting Latin under her breath. She looked around, unsure what to do.

Suddenly, there was a jolt in Calypso's heart and she collapsed onto the ground with a gasp. She looked up, panicked, through the door of the tent, and saw

Roy's hand on Layla's head.

"No!" Calypso gasped quietly. Then she realized what was going on. Who would have pissed off Sue Ann enough after they were healed that she would kill them? "Dean!"

Dean was headed toward the tent after a close call with two police men, when some lights around him went out. He stopped in his tracks, hoping that it wasn't because of what he thought. But as he watched the line of lights go out, one by one, he knew the reaper was after him. He turned around to see the it walking towards him.

Dean didn't try run as the reaper placed his hand on the side of Dean's head. He convulsed once, then slowly sank to his knees as his eyes glazed over.

"Hey!" a young female's voice yelled from a few feet away. Dean struggled to see who was talking, but the reaper easily turned its head to see Calypso. "Let go of him!" she ordered, looking straight into its eyes. The reaper looked from her to Dean, who was nearing death, Calypso could feel it, and back again. But it didn't move. "I said LET GO!" Calypso said, abnormally confident, stepping forward, unblinking. She knew what she was doing. She didn't know how, but there was an instinct telling her what to do.

The reaper obeyed the command, and pulled its hand back, a creepy smile on its face. Dean fell to the ground in a heap, close to unconsciousness.

"Callie?" he asked weakly, splayed out on the gravel.

"It's okay, Dean," Calypso told him, voice shaking, not breaking eye contact with the reaper. "I've got this under control. I promise." She bit her lip, scared, but knowing it would be okay, though she understood what she had to do next. "Now," she told the reaper. "Aren't you mad at Sue Ann for making you her slave?" A spike of anger came from the reaper. She laughed cruelly, not sounding like herself. "You should give her what she deserves." Maybe it was the light, but Calypso's eyes seemed to gleam red for a moment. "You should kill her. Like she tried to kill Dean."

The reaper smiled widely, then disappeared. Calypso knew where he was going, and ran after it as soon as she saw Dean sit up, wanting to see how this would play out.

Calypso arrived at the entrance of the tent just as Sue Ann spotted the reaper coming towards her. Sam was standing right next to her, probably trying to convince her to stop killing. Panicked, the woman tried to run, but the reaper appeared in front of her as soon as she turned around. It smiled.

"I-I don't understand," Sue Ann gasped, backing up as the reaper crept forward. "I-I control you!"

"Clearly, you aren't as high up on the chain of power as you thought," Calypso told her, emerging from the shadows. Sam looked from his sister to Sue Ann, not seeing the reaper.

"Callie," Sam said calmly. "What is going on?"

"Oh, I think Sue Ann needs a taste of her own medicine," Calypso told him. Sue Ann stared up at her, terrified.

"Please," the woman begged. "I-I'm sorry."

"Can it," Calypso told her viciously. "You had your chances to stop killing, and you just waved them by as they passed. Don't forget, you tried to kill Dean. That doesn't help your case. Not with me. So you only want to do the right thing when you're about to die?" Calypso crossed her arms. "You disgust me." She turned to the reaper, eagerly awaiting its revenge. "Help yourself," she told it, letting it out of its chains.

"Callie, no!" Sam cried. But it was too late. The reaper placed its hand on Sue Ann's head, and Sam and Calypso watched as her eyes glazed over and the woman fell to her knees. The reaper allowed her to slip onto the ground after a moment, still smiling, where Sue Ann convulsed once, twice, then was still. The reaper watched, satisfied.

It looked at her for a moment, expressionless, then disappeared, much to her surprise.

"Callie, what just happened?" Sam asked, staring down at Sue Ann's body.

"She tried to kill Dean," Calypso told him. "The reaper would've taken her life anyway, if I just let it free from the start. But I wanted to make sure Sue Ann knew why she was in this position."

"You killed her," Sam said. Calypso shook her head, smiling.

"No," she told him. "I just let the reaper do what it wanted."

They started walking back to the impala. Calypso figured that's where Dean was. He would have enough strength by now to go stand by it.

"And that's another thing," Sam said. "Since when can you control reapers? Sue Ann still had her cross."

Calypso paused, wondering. She blinked a couple times, confused.

"To be honest, I'm not really sure," Calypso said, almost to herself. "I guess it was just instinct."

"Instinct," Sam repeated, sounding concerned.

"Sam, we know I'm not human," Calypso explained her thinking. She pulled her shoulders back, disguising how she really felt "I might as well embrace it. I can save people with whatever powers I have. So if I feel some sort of instinct, I'm gonna follow it."

She walked quicker, overtaking Sam, and finally getting to the impala. She was correct. Dean was already there.

"Hey," Calypso said gently, walking up to him. "You okay?"

Dean looked at her strangely.

"What was that?" Dean asked.

"That was me saving your life," Calypso told him.

"So you control reapers now?" he asked her.

"I, uh... I guess," Calypso said, her bright confidence beginning to fade. "I don't exactly know why or how, so… Just don't ask."

Dean shook his head as Sam walked up behind Calypso.

"Hell of a week," he said simply.

"Yeah..." Sam agreed. "All right, come on. We should get going."

"Sure," Calypso agreed. Suddenly, exhaustion overtook her and she yawned. "I think... I'll just take... A quick nap..."

And she passed out, Sam barely catching her in time.

He and Dean exchanged a look before Sam put her in the back seat. The two got in the car silently

As Dean started the car and began to drive away, Sam voiced his concerns.

"Dean, we have to do something about Callie," Sam told his brother, making sure the girl was still unconscious.

"Sam," Dean began with a sigh. "She's saving people's lives, ours included."

"She killed Sue Ann without blinking," Sam told him. Dean looked back at Calypso, her hair covering her eyes, but a small smile on her face. She looked so innocent.

"She did?" Dean asked, disbelievingly.

"Set the reaper after her like it was nothing," Sam explained.

"Well I would've, too," Dean said.

"Yeah, you would've," Sam agreed. "Except you can't control reapers."

"Okay, yeah, I admit that part's a little weird," Dean agreed. "But we already looked through Dad's journal and found nothing. She's nothing Dad's seen before. Which means we don't know if she's dangerous or not. And I'm thinking, yeah, she's pretty damn powerful, but she doesn't want to be. So, for now, we protect her and make sure she's going down the right path."

"And if she isn't?" Sam asked. He hated wondering, but he needed to know. Dean was silent. "Dean."

"Then we force her on the right path," Dean told his brother fiercely. Sam nodded in agreement. "She's family, now okay? And we're not going to hurt her. She's innocent."

Calypso woke up on a very comfortable platform, covered by blankets. A bed. Of course. She rolled over, remembering what happened. Controlling the reaper must have exhausted her to the point where she passed out. And now she was back in the motel room.

"Callie, you awake?" Sam asked from a few feet away.

"No," she said, her voice muffled by the blankets wrapped around her body.

Sam laughed.

"You were out all night," Dean explained as Calypso fought her way free of the blankets making a mess. She looked down at the floor, where someone evidently slept the night before.

"You didn't have to put me on the bed," Calypso told the two of them, brushing her hair out of her face. "I would've been fine on the floor."

"Well, you were out so it was kind of hard to ask," Dean joked. Calypso smiled and slid off the bed, standing up. She turned around, looking back at the bed, and laughed.

"You didn't have to put that many blankets on," Calypso giggled, staring at the mountain of covers on the bed.

"I wanted to make sure you were comfortable," Dean said while Sam snickered. "Shut up, Sam,"

"Thanks," Calypso told him, feeling herself tear up. "That was really sweet."

Dean looked down and muttered something about them being "just blankets."

Calypso smiled and began to help them pack.

"What is it?" Sam asked his brother. Dean was sitting on the bed, staring out at nothing. Sam and Calypso shared a concerned glance, wondering what was wrong.

"Nothing," Dean lied.

Sam looked at Calypso, with that look saying, "your turn." She nodded and sat down next to Dean on the bed.

"Dean," she began, gentler than Sam did. "What is it?"

"We did the right thing here didn't we?" Dean asked her and Sam.

"Of course we did," Sam told him.

Dean hung his head.

"It doesn't feel like it," Dean said.

A knock at the door stopped the conversation.

"I got it," Calypso said, getting up and crossing the room. She opened the door as the two brothers turned to look. Of course, Sam already knew who it was.

"Hey Layla," he said while Calypso and Dean stood there, stunned. "Come on in."

"Hey," Layla replied. She entered the room and Dean quickly rose from the bed.

"How did you know we were here?" Dean asked as Calypso closed the door and stood awkwardly by it.

"Sam... called," Layla explained hesitantly. "He said you... wanted to say goodbye?"

Dean glanced at Sam who was standing next to him, looking sheepish.

"Callie and I are gonna... grab a soda," he claimed, walking towards the door. Calypso, getting the obvious hint, opened the door and followed Sam through it. She closed the door behind them.

As soon as the door shut, Calypso looked back regretfully.

"When I let the reaper kill Sue Ann, I could've given her life to Layla," Calypso said sadly. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Callie, if you did that, you wouldn't have been any better than Sue Ann herself," Sam told her.

"I killed her," Calypso said quietly. "Not the reaper. I mean, yeah, the reaper did it for me, but I told it to kill her." She looked up at Sam, her eyes shining. "So, no, I'm not any better than Sue Anne anyway."

It was quiet as they walked down the hall. Then Calypso laughed.

"Funny, how I was so against killing someone in the beginning," she began. "Then, when it came down to it, I didn't even hesitate. She tried killing someone close to me and I..." She sighed. "I just flipped a switch and turned psycho."

"You were being protective," Sam told her. "I'm not saying what you did was right, but if I was in your position I probably would've done the same thing."

Calypso smiled, but it quickly faded.

"I wonder if I can do something to make this right," Calypso said. "I wonder..."

She stopped in her tracks, straightening.

"I'll be right back!" she told Sam, running down the hallway.

"Wait, Callie, what are you doing?" Sam called after her. But she had already rounded a corner.

"Layla, wait!" came a feminine voice from behind the young woman as she was walking out of the motel. Layla turned around to see Calypso running after her.

"Hi, Callie," Layla said.

"Hey," Calypso said, breathing heavily from running all over the motel, trying to find Layla. "Listen, I know Roy didn't work."

"Dean told you," Layla guessed.

"Yeah," Calypso lied quickly. "But... I wanna see if there's another solution."

"Like what?" Layla asked. "There's nothing that can be done medically."

"That's not what I'm talking about," Calypso told her.

"Then what?" Layla asked.

Calypso looked down at her feet and took a deep breath.

"Me," she told Layla. "I-I'm not sure, but I might be able to..."

"Well, I might as well give you a shot," Layla told her, though Calypso knew she was just playing along. Layla didn't believe she could do it. To be honest, neither did Calypso.

Calypso cautiously put her arm on Layla's shoulder, bracing herself. She didn't know what would happen. As she focused on healing Layla, she heard the words of her lullaby in her mind.

_"Sanabitur puer_

_Ne aut sanguis vulnerum_

_Non sit malum_

_Requiem somnus restitui_

_Requiem est_

_Curabitur elit_

_Dixerunt non tanget te_

_Vulnus, et cicatrix, _

_Sanari potest tolli_

_Corrigi possint figi_

_Non nocet, nec nocet_

_Requiem est_

_Curabitur elit_

_Dixerunt non tanget te_

_Requiem est_

_Curabitur elit_

_Dixerunt non tanget te,"_

A wind suddenly blew around the two and Layla gasped. There was a cold feeling in the hand that was touching Layla's arm, and it just kept getting more and more intense, until Calypso suddenly pulled her hand off with a gasp.

She was holding a pale blue orb, sucking the warmth from the air. Calypso exchanged a startled look with Layla before looking back at her hand. Now what?

It suddenly came to her, what she had to do. She put the orb in front of her face, watching it ripple like water, and blew on it. As she blew, the wind roared again, harder, making the orb break apart, and the pieces scattered in the air before they faded into nothing.

As soon as the orb left Calypso's hand, she fell backwards into the wall, weak, but not losing consciousness yet. She looked up at the bright blue sky, full of awe.

"Oh my God," she heard Layla whisper. "What... What was that?"

"A miracle," Calypso replied softly, still staring at the sky. She turned back to Layla, who looked confused, but hopeful. "How do you feel?"

"I feel…" Layla began, "I feel perfect." She pulled Calypso into a hug. "Callie, I think you healed me!"

"I honestly can't believe it," Calypso told her.

"What were you singing?" Layla asked.

"I said that out loud?" Calypso asked. Layla nodded. "It was a lullaby my mom used to sing to me. I was just thinking about it." She looked back at the motel. "I should go back. Sam and Dean are waiting for me."

Layla smiled.

"Thank you," she told Calypso.

"It was no problem."

Calypso walked weakly back to the entrance of the motel.

"Callie," Layla called back to her. "You do know your eyes turned blue, right?"

What?

Sam and Dean looked to the door as soon as they heard it start to open and saw Calypso stagger inside, looking exhausted.

"Callie!" Sam exclaimed, he and Dean jumping up to help her to a seat. She placed herself on the edge of the bed, a wide smile on her face.

"What happened?" Dean asked. "Sam said you just took off. And you come back looking like you haven't slept in weeks! What the hell happened?!"

Calypso looked up at him, tears of joy in her wide, once again violet eyes and a huge smile on her face. Dean and Sam looked at her expectantly, awaiting an answer.

"I healed Layla."

"You what?" Sam asked.

"How?" Dean wondered at the same time.

"Not using a reaper," Calypso promised, beaming. "I don't really know how, but it felt... Good. Calming." She looked at their blank faces. "Don't you understand, I don't just kill and hurt, I can heal! I can help people!"

"It's just..." Dean said, trailing off. "You said yourself, miracles don't come free."

"If there's a price, I'll pay it, not Layla," Calypso told him.

"Haven't you paid enough?" Dean asked. Sam looked at his brother, stunned he would say such a thing.

Calypso shook her head, the smile fading from her face.

"No," she said seriously. "Other people have paid enough for being near me." She paused. "Maybe this will be the start of me paying them back."

**For the lullaby Calypso sings, I just used google translate so if you actually know Latin and the song makes no sense, that's why. Sorry!**


	9. Chapter 9

The moon shined bright while Calypso walked around outside the motel one night. She had a lot on her mind and needed time to think while she didn't have to pretend she was okay for the sake of the Winchesters.

She wondered how everyone in her old town was doing. She wondered if they knew she was gone. If they did, it was just because they were missing their favorite chew toy.

Calypso had never fit in there. She had always felt like she was different from everyone else. She could do things they couldn't, but didn't tell anyone. She didn't need another reason to be called a freak.

Calypso looked up at the moon and closed her eyes, letting the peace of the moment absorb her.

Then the door opened.

"Callie, you out here?" Sam called into the darkness, the light from the door escaping the room. "Callie?" He searched to his left, where Calypso was unwilling to look away from the moon. "There you are," he said, sounding relieved. "Wait, are you crying?"

Calypso tore her eyes off of the sky, confused, and ran her index finger under her eye, feeling damp skin from multiple tears being shed. Her eyebrows lifted up in surprise.

"Huh, I guess I am," she said matter-of-factly. She wiped the tears off her cheeks. "What's going on?"

"We have to go," Sam told her. "It's a long story, but we're leaving, right now."

Calypso shrugged.

"Okay," she agreed, heading back into the motel room. "I'll pack up my stuff."

She definitely needed an explanation for this one.

It didn't take long to pack everything into the impala and drive off, Dean taking the wheel.

Sam hurriedly explained his dream of a man who was killed by being locked in his car in the garage, with the vehicle on and the gas filling the room. Calypso listened carefully, taking in every detail. Sam didn't give her or Dean any time to talk before he called a data center for the man's name and location based on the license plate that Sam saw. Dean wasn't sure there would be a match, but Calypso knew anything was possible.

"Sammy relax," Dean told him. "I'm sure it's just a nightmare."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Sam said sarcastically, waiting for an answer on the other side of the line.

"I mean it," Dean said. "Y'know, a normal, everyday, naked-in-class, nightmare." Calypso wished she had those kinds of nightmares instead of her real ones, on the few occasions when she fell asleep. "This license plate, it won't check out. You'll see."

"It felt different, Dean," Sam insisted. "Real. Like when I dreamt about our old house. And Jessica."

"Yeah, that makes sense. You're dreaming about our house, your girlfriend," Dean pointed out. "This guy in your dream, you ever seen him before?"

"No," Sam admitted.

"No. Exactly," Dean agreed. "Why would you have premonitions about some random dude in Michigan?"

"Maybe you do know him, you just don't remember," Calypso thought out loud. "Or you could be connected somehow. I didn't know you two when I began dreaming of your little adventures."

"Yeah, but you weren't dreaming, you were sending your soul out of your body," Dean pointed out. She shrugged.

"I still don't know why I visited you two, though," Calypso told him.

It was quiet for a moment before Sam got a reply on his phone.

"Yes, I'm here," he told the person at the other end of the line. He listened, then turned to look at Dean in the classic, 'I was right,' way, picking up a pen. "Jim Miller. Saginaw, Michigan. You have a street address? Got it. Thanks." He hung up. "Checks out. How far are we?"

"From Saginaw?" Dean asked rhetorically. "Couple o' hours."

"Drive faster," Sam said seriously. They sped up and were silent for a moment. "And, Callie, why were you outside at midnight? You should've been asleep."

She shrugged again, but it wasn't a natural movement. She seemed stiffer than usual.

"Just wasn't tired," she claimed. "Needed time to think."

"Uh huh," Sam said, disbelievingly. "Come to think of it, I've almost never seen you asleep. Care to tell me why?"

Calypso looked out the window, jaw set, avoiding Sam and Dean's eyes.

"I don't sleep much," she said, bending the truth slightly.

"You know, I woke up a couple nights ago at three in the morning to see you walking around the room," Dean contributed.

"What, a girl isn't allowed to get a midnight snack?"

"You weren't stopping," Dean said. "You walked in circles for half an hour. Probably the whole night."

"Your point being?" Calypso asked. She hated it when people beat around the bush.

"Well, do you ever sleep?" Dean asked, doing his best to speak carefully.

"Sometimes," she told him and Sam. She accidentally made eye contact with Sam in the rearview mirror, and the pure concern in his eyes made her sigh in exasperation. She couldn't compete with the puppy dog eyes. "It's usually because of an accident or boredom. Otherwise, I try to keep myself awake each night."

"That's not healthy," Sam warned her. "Lack of sleep can kill you."

"Not me," Calypso pointed out softly. There was a moment of silence.

"What's so bad about sleep?" Dean asked.

"Sleep itself isn't that bad," Calypso admitted. "Actually, sleep is great. But what's the point if you just have nightmares the entire night that constantly wake you up?"

"You've gotta have a couple of good dreams," Dean said. "Balance or something."

She shook her head slowly.

"No," she told him. "It's like there's something wrong with me. I've never had a good dream, or even a good feeling as I wake up. I dream what I constantly remember. Flashbacks, and that's it."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look.

"I'm not going into detail on these dreams, if that's what you want to know," she said. "I told you the basic stuff. That's all you need to know right now."

Hopefully that's all they'd need to know, ever.

The Impala cruised to a stop outside a normal looking house; that is, it would look normal of there wasn't a cluster of emergency vehicles and a crowd around it. Calypso looked out the window, taking in every detail. The person on the stretcher being zipped into a body bag, the bright lights of the ambulance, and the three people on the porch, looking distraught. Of course, they could just be acting. She couldn't tell from so far away. Calypso looked up at the front seat, seeing Sam and Dean look at each other, Dean concerned and Sam upset. It looked like Sam's vision came true.

The group climbed out of the impala and approached the crowd watching the scene. Sam stayed behind for a moment.

"What happened?" Dean asked a spectating woman.

"Suicide," she told him, not taking her eyes off the house. "Can't believe it."

"Did you know him?" Calypso asked while Sam came up behind them to stand on the woman's other side.

"Saw him every Sunday at St Augustines. He always seems-" she paused, catching herself. "Seemed, so normal. I guess you never know what's going on behind closed doors."

"Yeah, you can never tell," Calypso said quietly, looking at the ground.

"How did... Ah. How are they saying it happened?" Sam asked. He already knew the answer, but still wanted confirmation.

"I heard they found him in the garage, locked inside his car with the engine running," the woman told them.

"Do you know about what time they found him?" Sam asked, needing every detail.

"Oh, it just happened about an hour or two ago," she explained. "His poor family. I can't even imagine what they're going through."

"It's hard to accept," Calypso agreed, watching the blonde woman on the front step crying and leaning against a middle aged man. A pale boy stood behind them, looking expressionless. She stared at him, perplexed. He didn't look very upset. It took her a moment before she realized the Winchesters were back at the impala. She quickly made her way back to them.

"... Not fast enough," Sam was saying. "It doesn't make any sense, man. Why would I even have these premonitions if there wasn't a chance I could stop them from happening?"

"I dunno," Dean told him. Sam shook his head and sighed.

"What do you think killed him?" Calypso asked. "Ghost, maybe? Demon?"

"Maybe the guy just killed himself," Dean suggested. "Maybe there's nothing supernatural going on at all."

Sam shook his head. Calypso was doubting it was a normal suicide, too. Something didn't seem right, other than the fact that Sam dreamed it would happen.

"I'm telling you, I watched it happen," Sam persisted. "He was murdered by something, Dean. I watched it trap him in the garage."

"So... Ghost?" Calypso asked again. "Poltergeist? Maybe a demon?"

"I don't know what it was," Sam said, getting worked up. "I don't know why I'm having these dreams, I don't know what the hell is happening!"

Calypso and Dean stared at Sam for a moment. They were both surprised that Sam would become so frustrated. He wasn't usually like that.

"What?" Sam asked defensively.

"Nothing," Dean said with a shrug while Calypso simply looked away. "I'm just, I'm worried about you man."

"Well, don't look at me like that!" Sam protested. Calypso smiled slightly. She hated being looked at like she was different just as much as Sam did, but was never confident enough to say so. She just dealt with it.

"I'm not looking at you like anything," Dean claimed, looking away. He glanced back. "Though I gotta say, you do look like crap."

"Nice. Thanks," Sam said sarcastically while Calypso shot Dean a look. He needed to be more sensitive.

"Come on, let's just pick this up in the morning," Dean said, moving to open the car door. "We'll check out the house, talk to the family."

"Dean, you saw them, they're devastated," Sam protested. Calypso agreed, but they needed to hunt the monster that did this. "They're not going to want to talk to us."

Dean thought for a moment.

"Yeah you're right," he agreed. "But I think I know who they will talk to."

"Who?" Sam asked.

At the same time, Calypso sighed.

"Is this gonna be illegal?" she asked.

Dean smirked in reply.

"Priests?" Calypso asked for the fifteenth time as Sam and Dean were playing dress up to visit the Millers. "I mean, really?"

"Hey, it's no worse than pretending to be F.B.I," Dean said, putting the black jacket on. "I don't see why you won't come with us."

"A, I'm way too young to look like a nun," Calypso said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "B, there's a line I'm just not gonna cross."

Dean laughed.

"Never took you as the religious type," he told her. Calypso shrugged as Sam came out of the bathroom, hair slicked back. She laughed.

"Looking sharp, Sam!" she teased, grinning.

"Isn't this what most priests do?" he asked.

"I dunno," Calypso admitted. Dean stared at her strangely and she looked at her swinging feet. "Just because I'm kinda religious doesn't mean I go to church."

"Okay..." Dean said, turning towards the door. "Well, we'll be back in a bit. Try not to blow up the place."

"No promises," Calypso joked. Dean smiled and he and Sam left the motel room.

It turned out it wasn't a ghost that killed Mr. Miller. In fact, they had no clue what it was. There were no traces of a ghost or poltergeist in the house, but the man didn't have a history of depression, either. Still, his son, Max, did find him in his car, killed by the fumes. What else could have done that?

Dean was cleaning his weapons as Calypso came out of the bathroom, her hair falling around her shoulders in a damp curtain from the shower she just took. Dean looked up at her.

"Think of any theories while you were in there?" he asked. She shook her head, hands in her pockets.

"If there were no signs of a ghost or poltergeist..." Calypso trailed off with a sigh. "I just don't know what else it could be."

Dean shrugged.

"A suicide," he suggested. Calypso shook her head.

"Wish I believed that," she said, sitting down on the bed next to him.

"Me, too," Dean admitted. Calypso smiled as Sam entered the room.

"Got anything?" Calypso asked.

"A whole lotta nothing," Sam admitted. "Nothing bad has happened in the Miller house since it was built."

"What about the land?" Dean asked. Sam sank onto his bed.

"No grave yards, battle fields, tribal lands or any other kind of atrocity on or near the property," he reported.

"Hey man I told you, I searched that house up and down," Dean said. "No cold spots, sulfur scent. Nada."

"And the family said everything was normal?" Sam confirmed.

"Well, if there was a demon or poltergeist in there you think somebody would have noticed something?" Dean asked. "I used the infrared thermal scanner man, and there was nothing."

"So what, you think Jim Miller killed himself and my dream was just some sorta freakish coincidence?" Sam asked.

"I dunno," Dean admitted. "I'm pretty sure there's nothing supernatural about that house."

"Maybe it doesn't have anything to with the house," Calypso suggested.

"Yeah," Sam agreed, rubbing his temples as if he had a horrible headache. "Well," he took a deep breath, holding his head. Calypso stared, concerned. "Maybe it's just... Gosh..." he said, keeping his hand on his forehead. "Maybe it's connected to Jim in some other way?"

"Sam, you okay?" Calypso asked slowly and deliberately. She wasn't sure what was going on, and was scared for her brother. Sam suddenly cried out in pain and sunk from the bed to crouch on the ground. Calypso jumped up and rushed over to him. Dean was right behind her.

"Ah," Sam complained as Calypso crouched down next to him. "My head."

"Sam?" Calypso asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey," Dean said to his little brother. He bent down and grabbed Sam's arms. "Hey! What's going on? Talk to me."

Sam didn't respond for a moment, then suddenly seemed to snap back to where he was.

"It's happening again," he gasped. "Something's gonna kill Roger Miller."

They were speeding along to Roger Miller's apartment when Calypso finally gained enough sense to ask if Sam was okay.

"Yeah," Sam said, clearly lying.

"I don't believe you," she persisted.

"I'm fine," he told her. She shrugged, turning to look back out the window.

"Alright," she said so quietly she could barely hear herself. "Touchy." She then frowned, realizing who in the car was like that most often.

"Just drive," Sam told Dean. They looked at each other until Sam sighed heavily and looked away.

"I'm scared, guys," Sam admitted. Calypso nodded sympathetically, getting where he was coming from. "These nightmares weren't bad enough, now I'm seeing things when I'm awake? And these, visions, or whatever, they're getting more intense. And painful."

"Come on man, you'll be all right," Dean told him confidently. "It'll be fine."

"What is it about the Millers?" Sam asked, on the verge of panicking. "Why am I connected to them, why am I watching them die? Why the hell is this happening to me?"

"I don't know, Sam but we'll figure it out," Dean said encouragingly. "We've faced the unexplainable every day. This is just another thing."

"No," Sam disagreed. "It's never been us. It's never been in the family like this, except Callie, and let's be honest, she's the exception to a lot." The corner of Calypso's mouth twitched up slightly. Sam had a point there. "Tell the truth, you can't tell me this doesn't freak you out."

Dean stared straight ahead for a long moment.

"This doesn't freak me out," he said finally. Calypso pursed her lips. Dean was clearly lying. It was too easy to see through his thin disguise. His brother knew it, too.

Sam stared at him, then turned away, expressionless.

The impala pulled up as Roger Miller approached the entrance of his apartment, carrying a large bag of groceries.

"Hey Roger!" Sam called out the window as they neared the man.

"What are you guys, missionaries?" Roger asked, annoyed, now rushing towards the entrance. "Leave me alone."

"Please!" Sam called after him desperately. But Roger was getting farther and farther away by the second.

"I told you the priest thing was a bad idea," Calypso muttered as Dean gunned the engine, hurriedly parking. They jumped out of the car to chase Roger, Sam taking the lead.

"Hey. Roger. We're trying to help!" Sam yelled as he tried to catch up to the man. "Please!" He ran up to the entrance just as Roger closed the door. "Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey."

"I don't want your help," Roger told Sam before walking away.

"We're not priests, you gotta listen to us!" Sam yelled after him as Calypso and Dean came up by the door, as well.

"Oh, yeah, 'cause admitting you lied is totally gonna convince Roger to trust you," Calypso said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"Roger, you're in danger!" Dean yelled, ignoring Calypso's well-made point. When Roger didn't answer, he looked around. "Come on. Come on, come on."

The three ran around the corner to a back entrance, but it was securely locked. Calypso was about to volunteer to pick it when Dean easily kicked it open.

"Oh," Calypso said quietly, pausing for a moment in surprise. "That's one way of doing it."

She realized the Winchesters were already moving, and sprinted after them. Naturally, their height was to their advantage as they jumped and climbed to the first level of the fire escape.

"Wait, but-" Calypso complained, not being able to reach high enough to get up on the fire escape. She looked around for another way, but there wasn't one she could get to quickly. "Really?"

Luckily, Dean noticed she was a little stuck and pulled her up onto the first level, then they were sprinting up the stairs, trying desperately to get there in time. When they were just one floor away from Roger's apartment, there was a _thunk_ and a wet squelching noise. Sam froze as Dean and Calypso rushed passed him, grabbing the railing.

Calypso sighed in regret as she saw Roger's head lying in the flower bed under the window, his blood coating the glass.

"We didn't make it," she said with a heavy heart. She wasn't disgusted or terrified, just sad that she couldn't save him. She should've been able to.

Sam joined Dean and Calypso by the body. After a long pause, Dean pulled out a couple handkerchiefs from his pocket and tossed one to Sam, then Calypso.

"Start wiping down your fingerprints, we don't want the cops to know we were here," Dean said, rushed. "Come on, come on!"

"One step ahead of you," Calypso said, holding up her two pale.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked, confused. She looked down at her right hand, expressionless.

"My fingerprints were burned off when I was younger," she told him indifferently. "I don't leave any traces behind

"Oh," Sam said, at complete loss of any other words. He exchanged a look with Dean. "Uh, okay."

Dean turned around, a little disturbed, and pushed up the window of Roger's apartment leading to the fire escape.

"I'm gonna take a look inside," he told them. Calypso nodded, then turned to help Sam with wiping down the fingerprints, though she felt him glance at her every few seconds.

Why were they acting strange? Did she say something?

The apartment was completely clean, just like the Miller's house, leaving the three as stumped as they were when the attacks started. Though Sam admitted seeing a dark shape stalking Roger, it didn't narrow the possibilities down very much. The best thing they could think of was if a vengeful spirit latched onto the family itself. But it was just a guess. Nothing was proven yet.

Sam and Dean went back to the house, acting as priests, and came back telling Calypso that Max acted unusually when the topic of his past came up in the conversation. So now they had to check out his old house across town.

They started off by talking to a man that lived across the street from the Miller's old house. Calypso shuddered. The perfect, identical looking houses, the too green lawns... It reminded her too much of her old neighborhood.

Of course, the man on his front lawn that they were talking with wasn't bothered by the uniform look of his street.

"Have you lived in the neighborhood very long?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, almost 20 years now. It's nice and quiet," the man said. Yeah, that's just what everyone wants you to think about them. "Why, you looking to buy?"

"Uh, no," Calypso said, looking a little pale. "Actually we're wondering if you remember the Millers? They lived right across the street, I think. They had a little boy named Max?"

"Yeah I remember," the man said more seriously. "The brother had the place next door. So uh, what's this about, is that poor kid ok?"

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"Well in my life I've never seen a child treated like that," the man explained. "I mean I'd hear Mr. Miller yelling and throwing things clear across the street, he was a mean drunk. He used to beat the tar outta Max. Bruises. Broke his arm two times that I know of."

Calypso grew very still, what little color that was left in her face disappearing.

"This was going on regularly?" Sam asked when Calypso didn't respond.

"Practically every day," he stated. "In fact that thug brother of his was just as likely to take a swing at the boy. But the worst part was the stepmother. She'd just stand there, checked out, not lifting a finger to protect him. I must have called the police seven or eight times. Never did any good."

"Now, you said step-mother," Dean noticed.

"I think his real mother died," the man said. "Some sorta... accident. Car accident I think."

Calypso took a deep breath as an attempt to calm herself, then looked at the Winchesters. Dean was emotionless, as usual, but Sam was holding his hand to his head and grimacing. Oh no, not again.

"Are you ok there?" the man asked, concerned, as any sane human being would be.

"Uh, yeah," Sam lied, wincing. Calypso and Dean both went forward to help him. Of course, Calypso knew she wouldn't be very much help, being short and weak.

"Thanks for your time," Dean said, holding an arm out towards Sam.

"Yeah, thank you," Sam told the man, lifting both his hands to his head.

They turned to go, Dean supporting Sam while Calypso followed anxiously behind them. As they got to the door of the impala, Sam's vision took hold of his mind. Calypso and Dean exchanged a frightened look.

"Oh, damn it," Calypso said, her voice shaking. Dean glanced over at her, concerned.

"You okay?" he asked. Calypso looked at him as if he was insane.

"Your brother is having a weird vision thing, and you're asking how _I'm_ doing?" she asked.

"You've been acting weird ever since we got out of the car," Dean said defensively.

Calypso briefly made eye contact with him, then quickly looked away, unable to lie to Dean.

Luckily, she didn't have to. At that moment, Sam snapped out of his vision, so Dean and Calypso's attention was transferred.

"God," Sam said, sounding utterly shocked.

Great. Then this couldn't be good.

"Max is doing it," Sam told them in the car, on the way to the boy's house. He had already explained how Max could move things without touching them, and was planning to use his power to kill his stepmother. So, naturally, they had to go stop him. "Everything I've been seeing."

"You sure about this?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, I saw him," Sam replied.

"How's he doing it?" Calypso wondered. Honestly, she wasn't surprised that Max would do such a thing. Pain makes people go insane, and she would know. Childhood trauma wasn't something she was a stranger with. But, though the motive was easy to figure out, how Max was doing it was another story.

"I don't know, like telekinesis?" Sam suggested.

"What so he's psychic, a spoon bender?" Dean asked.

"I didn't even realize it but this whole he was there," Sam said, ignoring Dean. "He was outside the garage when his Dad died, he was in the apartment when his Uncle died. These visions, this whole time - I wasn't connecting to the Millers, I was connecting to Max! The thing is I don't get why, man. I guess -because we're so alike?"

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked, sounding genuinely surprised. "The dude's nothing like you."

"Well, we both have psychic abilities, we both-" Sam began. Calypso pursed her lips, concerned. Sam couldn't start thinking like this. It would escalate, and eventually get worse. He could become severely depressed, like her. She wouldn't wish that fate on her worst enemy.

"Both what?" Dean interrupted while Calypso crossed her arms. "Sam, Max is a monster, he's already killed two people, now he's gunning for a third."

"Well, with what he went through, the beatings, to want revenge on those people?" Sam asked. Calypso frowned, disagreeing. "I'm sorry, man, I hate to say it, but it's not that insane."

"They're his family," Calypso protested quietly, looking at her hands clasped in her lap. "He can't just kill them... No matter what they've done. They're still his family. No matter how far underneath the surface it is, there's a part of them that loves him, cares about him. He can't just end their life."

It was quiet as what she said sunk in. She and Sam briefly made eye contact through the car mirror, but Calypso looked away instantly. She knew the Winchesters must have thought she was strange at that moment. But she honestly didn't care. They pulled over at Max's house.

"He's no different from anything else we've hunted, all right?" Dean told Sam. "We gotta end him."

"We're not going to kill Max," Sam protested.

"Then what?" Dean asked, frustrated and running out of ideas. "Hand him over to the cops and say 'Lock him up officer; he kills with the power of his mind.'"

"We aren't killing Max," Calypso agreed. "If we do, we'd still be killing a person. But we can reason with him. We can help keep everyone safe."

Dean stayed quiet for a long moment.

"All right fine," Dean finally agreed. "But I'm not letting him hurt anybody else."

He took out his pistol from the glove compartment and, glaring at both Sam and Calypso, opened the door.

Showtime.

They burst through the doors as Max was in the kitchen, preparing to kill his stepmother, but not putting his plan in action yet. Awkward...

"Fathers?" Mrs. Miller asked, stunned. Calypso couldn't blame her. They had broken down her front door, after all. She looked at Calypso. "Who is she?"

Calypso froze. She hadn't exactly thought about her fake identity. She didn't think Sam and Dean had, either.

"I'm in training to become a nun!" Calypso exclaimed, the words leaving her lips before she could think about them. "I wanted to do some community service and-"

"What are you doing here?" Max cut her off, talking to Dean. Angry, Calypso crossed her arms, standing up taller. It was rude to interrupt. Had he been raised in a barn? Just because he was abused, it didn't mean he could do anything he wanted. It didn't mean he could get away with being permanently angry and impolite. Somebody out there had it worse than him. Somebody always had it worse.

Well, maybe not worse than her.

"Ah, sorry to interrupt," Dean said awkwardly.

"Max, can we, uh, can we talk to you outside for just one second?" Sam asked, acting as if they didn't just break down his door

"About what?" Max asked suspiciously.

"It's... It's private," Sam told him. "I wouldn't want to bother your mother with it." He turned to Mrs. Miller. "We won't be long at all though, I promise."

Max looked at his stepmother, then back to the Winchesters and Calypso.

"Ok," he agreed.

"Great," Sam said.

He, Dean, and Calypso turned to the door while Max followed. As Dean grabbed the doorknob, he turned back to smile at Max. Calypso rolled her eyes, thinking Dean was trying too hard, when her eyes stopped at the mirror Max was looking at. Clearly visible in Dean's waistband was the butt of his pistol. Oh crap.

Calypso yelled in surprise as the doorknob was pulled from Dean's hand and the door slammed shut. Then she looked around, trying to keep calm, as the wooden blinds around the room closed with little snapping noises.

"You're not priests!" Max yelled, backing up. Dean drew his gun, but it flew from his hand and onto the floor, sliding to where Max could pick it up. He pointed it first at Sam and Dean, then Calypso, thinking she was the weakest link. She laughed, and was aware of the looks Sam and Dean shot her, but didn't care.

"Go ahead," she told him. "Try it."

It seemed like Max was about to pull the trigger and Calypso was about to prove her point, when his stepmother interrupted.

"Max, what's happening?" she asked. What did she think was happening? Didn't she see the scene that occurred just a moment ago?

"Shut up," Max ordered, terrified.

"What are you doing?" Mrs. Miller asked.

"I said shut up!" Max yelled as he used his power to fling the woman backwards, into the counter. She fell to the ground, unconscious. Calypso tore her wide eyes away from the woman and back to Max. Did they have a plan B?

"Max, calm down," Sam said soothingly.

"Who are you?" Max asked, panicking.

"We just wanna talk," Sam replied steadily.

"Yeah right, that's why you brought this!" Max yelled, indicating the gun.

"He's got a point," Calypso said reasonably.

"That was a mistake all right?" Sam said, sounding convincing. "So was lying about who we were. But no more lying, Max, ok? Just please, just hear me out."

"About what?" he asked.

"I saw you do it. I saw you kill your Dad and your Uncle before it happened," Sam explained quickly, not beating around the bush.

"What?" Max asked, stunned.

"I'm having visions Max," Sam told him. "About you."

"You're crazy," Max claimed. Calypso smiled slightly, remembering how she reacted when she first found out about Sam's visions. She was just as shocked, though she actually believed Sam when he told her.

"So what, you weren't gonna launch a knife at your stepmom?" He tapped right underneath his left eye. "Right here? Is it that hard to believe, Max? Look what you can do. Max, I was drawn here all right? I think I'm here to help you."

"No one can help me," Max said, crying.

"Let me try," Sam said calmly. "We'll just talk, me and you. We'll get Dean and Callie and Alice out of here."

"Um, I'm sorry, what?" Calypso asked, putting her hands on her hips.

"Uh-uh. No way," Dean protested at the same time.

Calypso then heard rumbling and looked up, eyebrows raised, as the chandelier began to shake.

"Nobody leaves this house!" Max yelled. Calypso didn't think he needed the whole chandelier shaking thing. It was a bit overdramatic.

"And nobody has to, all right?" Sam told him. "They'll just... They'll just go upstairs."

"Sam I'm not leaving you alone with him," Dean protested.

"Yeah, no way," Calypso agreed. "We can help. We're not going upstairs."

"Yes you are," Sam told her and Dean. "Look, Max. You're in charge here, all right, we all know that. No one's going to do anything that you don't want to do but I'm talking five minutes here man."

"Sam!" Dean exclaimed, disagreeing. Calypso shook her head, unwilling to move.

Max looked back at his stepmother.

"Five minutes," he agreed. The chandelier stopped shaking. "Go."

Dean went to pick up Mrs. Miller, but Calypso stayed where she was.

"Callie, go," Sam told her sternly.

"Or what?" she asked, arms crossed again. "You'll kill me? You do that."

"Callie-"

"I'm not moving, Sam," she told him in all seriousness.

"No, you're moving," Sam told her. "The closest you can be to here is on the stairs."

She looked at Max, who wasn't objecting, then nodded.

"Fine," she agreed. "But if something goes wrong, I'll be the first one here."

She couldn't hear anything from her position on the top of the stairs, so she just sat there, resting her head on her hands. It was uneventful for a while, then there was a thud and muffled yelling. Calypso quickly stood up, taking her knife out of her boot. She could hide weapons much better than Dean could.

Max appeared at the bottom of the staircase a moment later, and Calypso was already halfway down.

"Move out of the way," he told her. Calypso shook her head, sadly.

"I can't do that," she told him. She knew her knife would be pulled out of her hands at that moment, and didn't protest. It was worth a shot, even though she figured it wouldn't work. She looked Max in the eyes. "Why do you want to do this? You can just leave, if you wanted an escape. Why didn't you?"

"I don't want an escape," Max told her, looking like a complete mess. He was sweaty, red faced, and crying. "I want revenge."

"She's your family," Calypso told him. "Your dad and uncle were your family."

"They hated me!"

"That can't be completely true," Calypso said. "There must have been a part of them that loved you."

"There wasn't," he told her. "They hated me. My stepmother still does. I have to do this. The nightmares will stop! If I do this, I won't be afraid."

"Yes you will," Calypso said bluntly. "Those nightmares you have about your dad and uncle? They won't stop. They won't get better. They will haunt you for the rest of your life."

"How would you know?" he asked.

Calypso shut her eyes tightly, wincing. She didn't want to say it. She would do anything not to say it. But she had to.

"Because that's what happened to me," she admitted, making eye contact. "My dad hurt me, too."

"What?" Max asked, visibly shocked.

"I don't like talking about it," she told him.

"Did you kill your dad?" he wondered. She shook her head with a gasp.

"How could I do that?" she asked, horrified. "He's my family. He loves me." She took a deep breath. "I ran away. It was better for both of us. He wouldn't get hurt, and neither would I." Calypso frowned and wiped away a tear. "I just... What if I hurt him by leaving? I could've stayed to help him. Maybe if I had talked to him more he would've been okay. Maybe if I was home more often he would've stopped."

Max stared at her for a moment, obviously disgusted. Though Calypso couldn't tell, he was thinking of how she was wrong. Revenge was the answer. If he didn't have revenge, he would end up like her. He shook his head.

"I have to do this," he told her.

"Max-" Calypso began. But she was cut off by being thrown down the stairs and against the wall at the end of them. When she finally hit the ground, she was already unconscious. Max looked at her pitiful crumpled form. He didn't know what to think of the girl. She was nothing like him, but they shared the same kind of childhood.

"I'm sorry," Max whispered.

Calypso awoke when footsteps passed her face. Sam, she recognized, out of it. He sounded awfully hurried. Calypso sat straight up, a sharp pain in her head, as she realized why.

Max was about to kill his stepmother. Or, worse, Dean.

She quickly stood up and followed Sam up the stairs. Hearing her footsteps, Sam looked back at her.

"Oh, thank God, you're awake," Sam said, out of breath and panicking. "He's gonna kill Dean."

Calypso quickly overtook Sam when she heard the news. She and Sam sprinted down the hall together, when they heard muffled speech in one of the rooms. They crashed through the door to see the gun, floating in air, pointing at Dean.

"Stop!" Calypso screamed. Max looked back at her and Sam. "Please, don't do this," she pleaded. "Put the gun down."

"Why should I?" he asked. "I'm not going to end up scared and blaming myself. I'm not gonna just run away. I'm not that weak."

Calypso looked at him in the eye, reminding herself why she never told anyone her secret before. They would end up treating her like this.

"Please," Sam begged. "Please. Max. Max, we can help you. All right? But this, what you're doing. It's not the solution. It's not gonna fix anything."

"It never does," Calypso added.

Max was a shaking, sweaty, crying mess. He looked between Calypso and Sam, anguished. Then his face cleared as he relaxed a little.

"You're right," he said.

Calypso knew that kind of voice. She knew what came after that kind of voice.

She knew what would happen next.

"NO!" she screamed, a moment before Max swung the gun towards his forehead and pulled the trigger.

She heard Sam yell as she sunk to her knees, gasping and clenching her fists. No, no, no. She could've prevented this. Why did she let him do this? Why didn't she notice the signs a moment earlier? She should've known better after last time.

Max was dead.

And with him was her secret.

They had to call the police to report Max's death. Though they tried to tell them the truth, most details were omitted.

Sam had already explained how he tried to reason with Max, but after Sam found out that the same thing killed their mothers, Max refused to listen anymore. He had locked Sam in the closet, but Sam escaped after having a vision of Max killing Dean. The rest Calypso knew.

"Max attacked me," Mrs. Miller said, sitting on the couch, still shocked. "He threatened me with a gun."

"And these three?" the cop interviewing her asked, motioning towards Sam, Dean, and Calypso. Calypso looked at the wall. She hadn't talked too much since Max had killed himself, but spoke enough so that nobody would think she was acting strange. The truth was, she couldn't have been worse.

"They're... family friends," Mrs. Miller lied. "I called them soon as Max arrived, I was scared. They tried to stop him. They fought for the gun."

"Where did Max get the gun?" the police officer asked. Sam and Dean exchanged nervous looks behind Calypso. This was the part they were uneasy about. This was the part that could get them in trouble.

"I don't know," the woman insisted, looking at the ceiling and beginning to cry. "He showed up with it and..."

That was when Mrs. Miller broke down. Calypso looked away, her eyes beginning to water in sympathy with the woman. She knew what it felt like to have this happen. It was awful.

"It's all right Mrs. Miller," the cop tried to comfort her.

That was such a dumb statement. No, it wasn't all right. Nothing was ever all right.

"I've lost everyone," Mrs. Miller sobbed.

The cop walked over to Sam, Dean, and Calypso.

"We'll give you a call if we have any further questions," he told them.

"Thank you, officer," Calypso said politely.

"Come on," Dean told Sam, patting his arm.

They left the Millers' house gratefully. Calypso couldn't stay in there much longer. The stench of death was too overpowering.

"If I'd just said something else," Sam said regretfully. "Gotten through to him somehow."

"He was too far gone," Calypso told him, trying to sound neutral. "There's a line a person crosses to want to kill themselves. Once they've crossed it, it's hard to go back." She kicked the ground bitterly. "I sure know that."

"When I think about how he looked at me, right before," Sam said after a pause. "I shoulda done something."

"The worst is when, looking back, you can see little patterns and actions leading up to it that you couldn't see before," Calypso thought out loud. "Then you think, 'If I had just connected the dots sooner, they'd be here right now."

"That sounds like you've been there before," Sam noticed. Calypso pursed her lips and looked away. Sam's eyes widened. "You _have_ been there before."

"It was recent," she admitted quietly, stopping. "And I..." She swallowed to get rid of the lump in her throat, then shook her head. She couldn't do it. "And I can't talk about it. But I couldn't stop it, and we knew each other well. You had no chance with Max."

"Still," Sam said with a shrug. But his eyes didn't leave Calypso. Was she cursed, or something? They continued moving to the car. "I could've done _something_."

"Come on man, you risked your life. I mean yeah, maybe if we had gotten there 20 years earlier," Dean protested. They moved to their doors of the impala.

"Well I'll tell you one thing," Sam said. "We're lucky we had Dad."

Yeah, they sure were.

"Well I never thought I'd hear you say that," Dean admitted, looking astounded, yet pleased.

"Well, it coulda gone a whole other way after Mom," Sam explained. "A little more tequila and a little less demon hunting and we woulda had Max's childhood. All things considered, we turned out ok. Thanks to him."

_Yeah_. Calypso thought with a proud little smile, looking from one brother to the other. _You two_ _turned_ _out_ _okay_.

As soon as the three got back to their motel room, they began packing. They weren't staying a moment longer than they needed to.

"Guys, I've been thinking," Sam said as he reentered the room from putting a bag in the trunk.

"Well that's never a good thing," Dean joked. Calypso shot him a scolding look, then turned back to Sam.

"What have you been thinking about?" she asked.

"I've been thinking, this demon, whatever it is, why would it kill Mom, and Jessica, and Max's mother, you know?" Sam asked. "What does it want?"

"I have no idea," Dean said.

Well, Dean might not have known, but Calypso had already formed a theory. Perhaps the mothers weren't the targets. But then, why were they killed anyway?

"Well, you think, maybe, it was after us?" Sam wondered. "After Max and me?"

That was exactly what she thought.

"Why would you think that?" Dean asked.

"I mean, either telekinesis or premonitions, we both had abilities, you know?" Sam pointed out. "Maybe he was, he was after us for some reason."

But they were babies when it happened. What would be important about children?

And if the demon was after them, why were they alive? Though Calypso didn't voice her thoughts, they made her wonder.

"Sam," Dean said. "If it had wanted you, it would've just taken you. Ok? This is not your fault, it's not about you."

"Then what is it about?" Sam asked, frustrated.

"It's about that damn thing that did this to our family," Dean said angrily. "The thing that we're gonna find, the thing that we're gonna kill. And that's all."

Was it?

"Actually there's, uh..." Sam began, trailing off. "There's something else too."

"Like what?" Calypso asked. What else could there possibly be?

"When Max left me in that closet, with that big cabinet against the door..." Sam explained hesitantly. "I moved it."

As in... _Max_ move it?

"Huh," Dean said, unconcerned. "You got a little more upper body strength than I gave you credit for."

"You moron, he meant as in, like, Max!" Calypso said, annoyed. Dean had missed the whole point.

Dean paused his gathering of clothes and stood very still.

"Oh." It was silent. "Right."

"Yeah," Sam said awkwardly. After all, what could you say in this situation? It wasn't as if there was a book on it, or something. Dean went over to a table. What was he doing? Did he just pick up a spoon?

He did.

"Bend this," Dean told Sam in all seriousness, holding the spoon out to him.

"I can't just turn it on and off, Dean," Sam told him, annoyed.

"Well how'd you do it?" Dean asked.

"I don't know, I can't control it," Sam claimed. "I just... I saw you die and it just came out of me, like a, like a punch."

"So, like some weird adrenaline thing?" Calypso asked.

"Yeah."

"Yeah, well I'm sure it won't happen again," Dean said confidently.

"Yeah, maybe," Sam said. Aren't you worried, man? Aren't you worried I could turn into Max or something?"

"Nope," Dean said while Calypso shook her head. "No way. You know why?"

"No. Why?" Sam asked.

"Cause you got one advantage Max didn't have," Dean told him.

"Dad? Because Dad's not here, Dean," Sam pointed out.

"No. Me." He smirked, then noticed Calypso standing a few feet away. "And Callie of course. As long as we're around, nothing bad is gonna happen to you."

Calypso smiled.

"Promise," she agreed. Sam looked between them with a happy small smile on his face.

Dean slung his bag over his shoulder and moved towards Sam a few steps.

"Now, then," he said. "I know what we need to do about your premonitions. I know where we have to go."

This was another one of his jokes, wasn't it?

"Where?"

"Vegas."

Of course.

Calypso rolled her eyes and walked out the door to the car. As soon as she was outside, a wide smile spread across her face and she looked up at the moon.

And, for the first time in a while, everything was okay.


	10. Chapter 10

_"When she was just a girl_

_She expected the world_

_But it flew away from her reach_

_So she ran away in her sleep_

_Dreamed of para- para- paradise_

_Para- para- paradise_

_Para- para- paradise_

_Every time she closed her eyes."_

Calypso listened to one of her favorite songs in the back of the impala, on her way to Chicago. She closed her eyes, not falling asleep, but thinking. Reliving the good points in her life, almost as if she was dreaming forced dreams. It was something she did often. Dean was driving silently while Sam was asleep in the passenger seat. He had driven all day, and was taking his break while Dean took over for a while.

_"When she was just a girl_

_She expected the world_

_But it flew away from her reach_

_And the bullets catch in her teeth."_

Calypso looked out the window at the diamond specked sky, wide eyed. She still wasn't used to seeing the night sky. It was so strange to be able to look at it without-

"What're you listening to?" Dean asked, interrupting her thoughts. She turned, a peaceful expression on her face. It was one of those rare moments where she didn't have to worry about anything.

"It's a song called Paradise," she replied, taking out one of her headphones so she could converse. "It's... Comforting. I can relate to it."

_"Life goes on_

_It gets so heavy_

_The wheel breaks the butterfly_

_Every tear, a waterfall_

_In the night, the stormy night_

_She closed her eyes_

_In the night, the stormy night_

_Away she'd fly."_

As the song reached the chorus again, she blushed.

"That sounded stupid, didn't it," she laughed nervously.

"Nah," Dean told her. "That's what music is for."

"Yeah," she agreed, smiling dreamily. "You know, when you have a bad day, it's there for you. Same thing with books. They cheer you up really easily. I love it!"

_"So lying underneath those stormy skies._

_She said oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh._

_I know the sun must set to rise."_

Dean laughed at her enthusiasm. It was cute, watching her get excited over simple things. It reminded him of how Sam was as a kid, a bit.

"Geek," he joked. Calypso stuck her tongue out at him.

"Moron," she shot back. Dean smiled and turned back to the road while Calypso put the headphone back in her ear.

_"This could be para- para- paradise_

_Para- para- paradise_

_Could be para- para- paradise_

_Whoa-oh-oh oh-oooh oh-oh-oh."_

_Yes, it could_, Calypso thought, smiling. _Yes, it could_.

The next morning, they arrived in Chicago. After checking into a motel room, the threewent out to investigate the scene of the attack they were looking into. A girl had been killed in a locked apartment. The alarms weren't set off, the windows were shut tightly, and nothing seemed to be touched. Except the girl, of course.

It was clearly their type of case.

They pulled up outside the apartment building and unloaded, dressed as employees of the company that made the alarm in the girl's apartment. Neither Dean nor Calypso enjoyed it.

"I feel like a man," Calypso complained as Dean took a tool box out of the trunk. Sam looked at her.

"You look fine," he reassured her. She shook her head.

"I don't care how I look. But, seriously, this thing makes me feel like a friggin' man!" she explained. Dean came towards them, carrying a tool box of what Calypso knew were weapons and other devices.

"You know, I've gotta say Dad and me did just fine without these stupid costumes. I feel like a high school drama dork," he stated, then smiled. They started walking "What was that play that you did? What was it – Our Town. Yeah, you were good, it was cute."

"Look, you two wanna pull this off or not?" Sam asked. Calypso shrugged.

"I'm just sayin', these outfits cost hard-earned money, okay?" Dean said.

"Whose?" Sam pointed out.

"Ours," Dean told him. Calypso rolled her eyes. "You think credit card fraud is easy?"

"Well, it's not hard," Calypso told him. "Not if you know what you're doing."

She smiled cheekily at Dean and scurried to the door, stopping only to send a smile back to Sam and Dean, now many steps behind her.

They were guided into the apartment by the landlady, an unfriendly woman with the tendency to speak her mind. The woman told about how she discovered Meredith, the murdered girl, looking almost as if she was torn apart by a wild animal. Then she left them alone to look around.

"So, a killer walks in and out of the apartment—no weapons, no prints, nothin'," Dean summarized a few minutes later.

"I'm tellin' ya, the minute I found that article, I knew this was our kind of gig," Sam said.

Calypso nodded, looking around thoughtfully.

"Yeah, it definitely feels weird in here," Calypso. "Feels like death and... Something else. I can't really sense that part as well."

Dean looked down at the EMF meter which beeped frantically.

"I think I agree with you both," Dean said.

"So, you talked to the cops?" Sam asked.

"Uh, yeah," Dean replied. He smirked. "I spoke to Amy, a, uh, charming, perky officer of the law."

"Yeah?" Sam asked. Calypso stopped letting her eyes wander around the apartment and looked at Dean, awaiting an answer. "What'd you find out?"

"Well, she's a Sagittarius," Dean said dreamily. Calypso sighed and rolled her eyes. She turned her attention back to the apartment, Dean's words going in one ear and out the other. "She loves tequila, I mean—wow. Oh, and she's got this little tattoo—"

"Dean!" Sam interrupted, steering him back on topic.

"What?" Dean said. "Yeah. Uh, nothin' we don't already know. Except for one thing they're keepin' out of the papers."

That caught Calypso's attention.

"What?" she asked.

"Meredith's heart was missing," Dean told her and Sam.

"Her heart?" Sam asked, stunned.

"Yeah," Dean repeated. "Her heart."

"So, what do you think did it to her?" Sam asked. Calypso was one step ahead of him. She was going through creatures in her head, trying to fit one of them into the situation.

"Well, the landlady said it looked like an animal attack. Maybe it was. Werewolf?" Dean suggested.

"No, I already checked the lunar cycle," Calypso said. "Nowhere near a full moon for a good two weeks. And it can't be a spirit 'cause I'm not sensing anything. Except that thing I can't make out. But I can tell it isn't a spirit, at least. Maybe something close to it?"

"Maybe," Sam agreed. Dean looked at the bloodstains on the carpet and seemed to notice something.

"See if you can find any masking tape around," Dean told Calypso.

She raised an eyebrow.

Why?

It turned out that Dean wanted to play connect the dots with the large bloodstains. Calypso watched, wondering what she was supposed to be looking for. But when Dean was finished, it was clear what he wanted to show her and Sam.

"What the hell?" Calypso muttered, looking at the odd symbol that Dean had put together.

"Ever see that symbol before?" Sam asked his brother.

"Never," Dean replied.

"Me neither," Sam said.

The three looked at each other, the same question on each of their minds.

What the hell were they dealing with?

They went to a bar that night, the one where Meredith used to work at. Of course, Calypso was a little young to be there, but the Winchesters had it covered. She now had a fake ID, claiming she just turned 21. Of course, she couldn't bring herself to drink anything. Not to mention that Dean wasn't letting her go anywhere near liquor. She didn't really want to. It smelled weird, and probably tasted even weirder.

Calypso had the shared task of finding out what Meredith was acting like before she was killed. She'd asked around a bit, but the girl had been normal for the last days of her life. As she wandered around, looking for anything out of the ordinary, she noticed Dean, given up on the mission, flirting with the bartender.

Calypso rolled her eyes. Dean was so focused while hunting, but when it came to girls with big boobs, he couldn't help himself. Why were all guys like this? Couldn't they tell most of the big ones are fake? If they did, it didn't seem to bother them.

Calypso looked over at the door to see Sam come inside and sit at an empty table. She quickly joined him, eager to stop looking around the bar she had memorized two hours ago. As she sat down, Sam took out his father's journal, leafing through the pages. Dean soon joined them.

"I talked to the bartender," he stated. Calypso laughed.

"You've been talking to the bartender for almost the entire time we've been here!" she pointed.

"Did you get anything?" Sam asked Dean. He grinned. "Besides her number?"

"Dude, I'm a professional," Dean protested. "I'm offended that you would think that." Calypso scoffed as Sam gave his brother a knowing look. "All right, yeah." Dean chuckled and held up a napkin with the number on it.

"You mind doin' a little bit of thinking with your upstairs brain, Dean?" Sam asked. Calypso looked between the two, uncomfortable with the way this conversation was going.

"Look, nobody knew anything weird about Meredith," Calypso changed topics. "Everyone said she was normal. She didn't act weird before she died. It was a shock to everyone." She looked at Sam. "Did you have any luck with the symbol?"

"Nope, nothing," Sam said. "It wasn't in Dad's journal or in any of the usual books. I just have to dig a little deeper, I guess."

"Well, there was a first victim, right? Before Meredith?" Dean asked. Calypso nodded, remembering.

"Right. Yeah," Sam agreed. He pulled out a newspaper clipping about the first man's death. "His name was, uh—his name was Ben Swardstrom." He handed the clipping to Dean. "Last month he was found mutilated in his town house. Same deal—the door was locked, the alarm was on."

"And no connection between the two?" Calypso asked.

"Not that I can tell—I mean, not yet, at least," Sam replied. "Ben was a banker, Meredith was a waitress. They never met, never knew anyone in common—they were practically from different worlds."

"So, to recap, the only successful intel we've scored so far is the bartender's phone number," Dean asked. He smirked.

"Will you please shut up!" Calypso told him, hitting the table lightly in a joking manner.

Sam suddenly got out of his seat and walked away, much to the surprise of Dean and Calypso.

"What?" Calypso asked.

"Sam?" Dean called at the same time. But Sam didn't turn back around. His eyes were set on something. Calypso couldn't see what, though.

After exchanging a look, Calypso and Dean followed, shoving their way through the crowd with mumbled apologies from Calypso. They showed up behind Sam as he was talking to a petite, clearly dyed blonde haired girl.

"...I thought you were going to California," Calypso heard Sam say as she walked up.

"Oh, I did," the girl answered. Her hair was very short, almost a rebel haircut. "I came, I saw, I conquered. Oh, and I met what's-his-name, something Michael Murray at a bar."

"Who?" Sam asked, confused.

"Oh, it doesn't matter," Meg replied. Calypso heard a hint of an accent, but couldn't quite place it. British, maybe? She couldn't tell. "Anyway, the whole scene got old, so I'm living here for a while."

Dean cleared his throat loudly, but was ignored. Calypso looked over at him and shrugged. Maybe the girl was a college friend. It wouldn't be the first one Calypso had met. But there was something about the girl that seemed a little off. Like a facade. Calypso knew the girl was hiding something. She just couldn't tell what it was.

"You're from Chicago?" Sam asked. Clearly not a college friend, then. He'd know more about her, if she was. Where did he know the girl from?

"No, Massachusetts—Andover," the girl explained. She smiled. "Gosh, Sam, what are the odds we'd run into each other?"

"Yeah, I know, I thought I'd never see you again," Sam admitted. So he only met her once, Calypso assumed.

"Well, I'm glad you were wrong," the girl said. Sam nodded. Dean cleared his throat again, even louder than the first time. The girl turned to him, annoyed. "Dude, cover your mouth."

"Yeah, um, I'm sorry, Meg," Sam said, sounding uncomfortable. "This is, uh—this is my brother, Dean. And, uh, my sister, Calypso."

Meg was clearly surprised.

"This is Dean?" she asked, then looked at Calypso. Something flickered in her eyes. Triumph? It was too quick to tell. "And you're Calypso? Nice contacts. Purple's a cool color."

"Thanks," Calypso said hesitantly. She was suspicious. How did Meg know so much?

"So, you've heard of me?" Dean asked.

"Oh, yeah," Meg said angrily. "I've heard of you. Nice—the way you treat your brother like luggage."

Calypso's eyes widened in shock. She looked over at Dean, who was almost as taken aback as she was.

"Okay, look, that was uncalled for," Calypso told Meg icily. Her arms crossed.

"And you, always jumping to his defense?" Meg said, turning to her. "Refusing to take sides? Don't you support your family?"

"Yeah, I do, which is why I'm telling you to back off, bitch!" Calypso said loudly, but calmly. Meg and Calypso stared at each other aggressively for a few seconds before Calypso felt a hand lightly touching her arm. She turned to the right to see Sam shaking his head and rolled her eyes. "Fine. She's not worth it anyway," Calypso said over her shoulder as she stalked away.

She couldn't hear Sam's apologies or Dean's excuse to leave, only the buzzing in her ears. It was odd. Calypso usually didn't have a temper, but Meg's presence seemed to bring out the worst in her. And she didn't like it.

"Callie!" a deep voice called after her. She knew it was Dean, but didn't turn around. She did, however, slow down enough to let him catch up to her. "What just happened?" he asked once he was next to Calypso.

She frowned, her mind clearing once again. What had happened? Meg's presence happened. Something was way wrong.

"I don't know," Calypso replied slowly. She wasn't lying. She really wasn't sure what was going on. All she knew was that something obviously wasn't right.

"I didn't realize you had such a big temper," Dean commented as she stopped walking.

"Neither did I," she admitted. Calypso looked around the bar. "I guess we need to wait for Sam, to get answers."

Dean nodded.

So they waited.

Sam finally emerged from the crowd a few minutes later. Calypso waited until they were in the parking lot to ask the big question.

"Who the hell was she?" Calypso asked, a faint anger coming forward, like an echo.

"I don't really know," Sam told her. "I only met her once. Meeting up with her again? I don't know, it's weird."

"And what was she saying? I treat you like luggage?" Dean asked. "What, were you bitchin' about me to some chick?"

"Look, I'm sorry, Dean," Sam apologized. "It was when we had that huge fight when I was in that bus stop in Indiana. But that's not important, just listen—"

"Well, is there any truth to what she's saying?" Dean asked "I mean, am I keeping you against-"

"Both of you, just shut up!" Calypso yelled, fed up with the argument. She turned to Sam. "You, don't rant about Dean to some stranger," She turned to Dean, "And you, don't be so sensitive about it. I remember a few choice words coming out of your mouth, too. Now," she said, turning to Sam, "Please, tell us as much as you know."

"I think there's somethin' strange going on here," Sam said.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Dean said. "She wasn't even that into me."

"Believe it or not, not all girls are," Calypso told him. He ignored her.

"No, I mean like our kind of strange. Like, maybe even a lead," Sam suggested. Calypso agreed.

"Why do you say that?" Dean asked.

"I met Meg weeks ago, literally on the side of the road. And now, I run into her in some random Chicago bar? I mean, the same bar where a waitress was slaughtered by something supernatural? You don't think that's a little weird?" Sam pointed out.

"I don't know, random coincidence. It happens." Dean said.

"Yeah, it happens, but not to us," Sam pointed out.

"Not to mention, Meg was hiding something. She was acting the entire time," Calypso said. "It took a minute for me to figure it out, but it's true."

"What makes you say that?" Sam asked.

"Because I know how it looks when someone hides their personality in public," Calypso explained. "They seem charming and nice, but they really aren't at all."

"How do you know that?" Dean asked. Calypso looked pointedly away. "Right, sorry. You don't like to talk about that stuff."

"It's fine," Calypso told him. "What's our next move?"

"Maybe there isn't a next move," Dean said. "Maybe Meg is just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Look, I could be wrong, I'm just sayin' that there's something about this girl that I can't quite put my finger on," Sam told his brother. Dean smirked.

"Well, I bet you'd like to," Dean joked. Calypso rolled her eyes. "I mean, maybe she's not a suspect, maybe you've got a thing for her, huh?" Sam also rolled his eyes and laughed. "Maybe you're thinkin' a little too much with your upstairs brain, huh?" He pointed to his head and grinned as Sam became serious again.

"Do me a favor, both of you," Sam said. "Check and see if there's really a Meg Masters from Andover, Massachusetts, and see if you can't dig anything up on that symbol on Meredith's floor."

Calypso nodded. It sounded reasonable enough.

"What are you gonna do?" Dean asked.

"I'm gonna watch Meg," Sam replied. Dean laughed.

"Yeah, you are," he said.

"I just wanna see what's what," Sam claimed. "Better safe than sorry."

"All right, you little pervert," Dean said. Calypso couldn't help herself. She giggled.

"Dude," Sam complained.

"I'm goin', I'm goin'," Dean said. He and Calypso crossed the street, not exactly enthusiastic to do research, but they both knew it was necessary.

Joy.

They discovered that Meg checked out and, after a couple calls, the symbol from the bloodstains was a sigil for a Daeva. A Daeva was essentially a demon of darkness. They were supposedly savage creatures, like animals, and had to be summoned by someone – or something. So, clearly they had to find whoever controlled the thing and take them down.

After both Sam and Dean came back to the motel room following their little excursions, they met with Calypso by the table in the kitchen.

"So, hot little Meg is summoning the Daeva?" Dean asked in confirmation after Sam told of how he followed Meg to an abandoned building. He saw the black alter and Meg using a bowl of blood to contact someone.

"I totally called it," Calypso pointed out. Sam shot her a look and she shrugged.

"Looks like she was using that black altar to control the thing," Sam explained.

"So, Sammy's got a thing for the bad girl," Dean said. He chuckled as both Sam and Calypso rolled their eyes. "And what's the deal with that bowl again?"

"She was talking into it," Sam explained. "The way witches used to scry into crystal balls or animal entrails. She was communicating with someone."

"With who? With the Daeva?" Dean asked.

"But didn't you tell me that Daevas were like animals?" Calypso asked. "Complete savages?"

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "This was someone different. Someone who's giving her orders. Someone who's comin' to that warehouse." Calypso pursed her lips, remembering what Dean had showed her an hour or two before. They exchanged a look before he sat down at the table with files covering it, and looked through the papers. "Holy crap."

"What?" Sam asked.

"What I was gonna tell you earlier—I pulled a favor with my –" He cleared his throat. "– friend, Amy, over at the police department. The complete records of the two victims—we missed something the first time."

"What?" Sam asked, coming over to look at the records.

"The first victim, the old man—he spent his whole life in Chicago, but he wasn't born here. Look where he was born," Dean said. He pointed to the place of birth section of the page.

"Lawrence, Kansas," Sam read aloud. Calypso took a step back. It was something huge for Sam and Dean, but not necessarily for her.

"Mhm," Dean agreed, picking up the second file. "Meredith, second victim—turns out she was adopted. And guess where she's from." Lawrence, Kansas, Calypso already knew. Sam sat down across from Dean, shocked, leaving Calypso standing alone, a few feet away from the table.

"Holy crap," Sam said.

"That about sums it up," Calypso agreed.

"Yeah," Dean said.

"I mean, it is where the demon killed Mom. That's where everything started," Sam thought out loud. "So, you think Meg's tied up with the demon?"

"I think it's a definite possibility," Dean said. Calypso sighed. What more evidence did they need? Sam had seen her at the black altar. She showed up randomly, when she was supposed to be in California. She had hearts on a stick, for crying out loud! Was this not suspicious enough?

"But I don't understand. What's the significance of Lawrence?" Sam asked. What if it was just to draw them in? Calypso became unsure. It could be a trap. That's what she would do. "And how do these Daeva things fit in?"

"Beats me," Dean admitted. "But I say we trash that black altar, grab Meg, and have ourselves a friendly little interrogation."

"No, we can't," Sam said. "We shouldn't tip her off. We've gotta stake out that warehouse. We've gotta see who, or what, is showin' up to meet her."

Maybe it was a trap. There was always that possibility. But Calypso wasn't confident enough to say anything. It was only a maybe, after all.

"I'll tell you one thing," Dean said. "I don't think we should do this alone."

Who would help them?

Dean tried calling his father, though all three knew he wasn't going to answer. They just didn't want to say it out loud.

Calypso and Sam brought weapons in from the impala as Dean spoke, and overheard the last part of the message he left.

"We think we've got a serious lead on the thing that killed Mom," Dean spoke into the phone. "So, uh, this warehouse—it's 1435 West Erie. Dad, if you get this, get to Chicago as soon as you can." He hung up.

"Voicemail?" Sam asked as Calypso set the weapons down.

"Yeah," Dean said. He gestured to the bags Sam was holding, as well as the ones Calypso had set down. "Jesus, what'd you get?"

Sam chuckled and Calypso looked up at him, grinning.

"We ransacked that trunk," Sam told him. Calypso stretched out her back. "Holy water, every weapon that we could think of, exorcism rituals from about a half dozen religions. I'm not sure what to expect, so I guess we should just expect everything."

"Of course, we don't know how to kill Daevas, so we're just winging it on that part," Calypso added. "I mean, how do you kill a shadow?"

Dean nodded, and the three began loading their guns silently. This was big. If they actually killed the thing... But if they did, what if the Winchesters left Calypso? They wouldn't have any other goals. They'd go different ways, and she would be alone. Again. She bit her lip, scared.

"Big night," Dean said, out of the blue. No kidding.

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "You nervous?"

"No. Why, are you?" Dean asked. Sure he wasn't. Even Calypso was nervous, and this thing wasn't even connected to her.

"No," Sam claimed. "No way." It was silent for a few seconds. "God, could you imagine if we actually found that damn thing? That demon?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself," Calypso warned with a slight smile.

"I know," Sam said. "I'm just sayin', what if we did? What if this whole thing was over tonight? Man, I'd sleep for a month." Calypso doubted there would be time for that. "Go back to school—be a person again."

"You wanna go back to school?" Dean asked. Calypso could feel a fight coming on.

"Yeah, once we're done huntin' the thing," Sam told him.

"Huh," Dean said simply.

"Why, is there somethin' wrong with that?" Sam asked defensively.

"No," Dean claimed. "No, it's, uh, great. Good for you."

"I mean, what are you gonna do when it's all over?" Sam asked. "Callie?"

She gave a halfhearted shrug.

"I don't know," she said softly. "There's so much I can't do. So much I don't want to do. I don't know if it's ever gonna be over for me, now that I know this stuff."

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "There's gonna be others. There's always gonna be somethin'

to hunt."

"But there's got to be somethin' that you want for yourself—" Sam said.

"Yeah, I don't want you to leave the second this thing's over, Sam," Dean said, walking over to the dresser.

"Maybe I should..." Calypso began awkwardly, looking at the door. "Maybe I should go..."

"No, stay," Sam insisted. He turned to Dean. "Dude, what's your problem?"

Dean was silent for a while, then turned back to Sam.

"Why do you think I drag you everywhere? Huh?" Dean asked. "I mean, why do you think I came and got you at Stanford in the first place?"

"'Cause Dad was in trouble. 'Cause you wanted to find the thing that killed Mom," Sam guessed. Calypso tried to blend into the wall.

"Yes, that, but it's more than that, man," Dean said. He returned to the dresser, quiet, then turned back to Sam again. "You and me and Dad—I mean, I want us... I want us to be together again. I want us to be a family again." He looked over at Calypso. "A family with a new member."

Calypso was touched. She still wasn't sure how she fit into the old family equation, but if Dean was willing to try to squeeze her in, well, she was willing to try, too.

"Dean, we are a family. I'd do anything for you. But things will never be the way they were before," Sam told his brother gently. Calypso saw Dean's face go from hopeful to heartbroken.

"Could be," Dean said sadly. It almost broke Calypso's heart to see Dean without his barriers. Dean, so protective and loving of his family. All he wanted was for things to be the same, again. But they wouldn't be with her here, would they? She was the one thing that stood between Dean and his wish.

"I don't want them to be," Sam told him. "I'm not gonna live this life forever. Dean, when this is all over, you're gonna have to let me go my own way."

He and Dean shared a look and Calypso's mind wandered. So Sam would be gone, but Dean would stay, probably with his dad. Where would she go? John Winchester didn't seem like the type to adopt an inhuman girl into the family.

What was she gonna do?

They left soon afterwards, and arrived at the warehouse quickly. Calypso brought up the rear as they climbed up the elevator shaft to reach the top room and was again the last one to securely hide herself behind the crates. She didn't look around the room much, gun in hand and knife in her pocket. Meg stood at an altar by a window, speaking in an ancient language that Calypso could not understand. Then the girl stopped.

"Guys," Meg said calmly, without turning around. Calypso's heart sank and she closed her eyes for a moment, disappointed. "Hiding's a little bit childish, don't you think?"

"Well, that didn't work out like I planned," Dean said lightly. Meg turned around to face them. Well, the crates, anyway.

"Why don't you come out?" Meg suggested, though it was said more as a command. Calypso followed Sam and Dean out from behind the crates, hoping that one of them had a plan B. "Sam, I have to say, this puts a real crimp in our relationship."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Sam replied.

"So, where's your little Daeva friend?" Dean asked.

"Around," Meg claimed. Calypso frowned, perplexed. What did she mean by that? "You know, that shotgun's not gonna do much good."

"Oh, don't worry, sweetheart," Dean told her coolly. "The shotgun's not for the demon."

Calypso furrowed her eyebrows. What if Meg wasn't human and couldn't be killed by a gun? That would be a bit of an issue.

"So, who is it, Meg?" Sam asked. Calypso felt a chill and shivered, but dismissed it as a draft. "Who's coming? Who are you waiting for?"

"You."

Calypso paled. A trap. Why didn't she throw the idea out there in the first place? She could've kept them out of this mess. God, she was so stupid!

The draft came again and this time, Calypso froze. That didn't feel like a draft. It felt like something's cool breath on the back of her neck. She turned around slowly, heart racing, to face whatever was behind her.

And she screamed.

This was the Daeva. This was the demon of darkness. It looked exactly how Calypso pictured the dementors from Harry Potter, with a torn, black cloak and a hood. But underneath the hood was what terrified her. There was no face, no features. Just gray skin, hanging loosely off the skull. Eye sockets, yes, but only black pits where the eyes should have been. Its mouth seemed to be stretched into a grotesque smile, bloody and rotting away. It was a thing made of nightmares and pure fear. And when it knocked Calypso out, she couldn't move her arm up to protect herself.

Calypso woke up first, with her arms tied together behind a post. Her head pounded and she groaned as she struggled to remember what had happened. Calypso suddenly straightened up with a gasp as the image of the Daeva rose to front of her mind once again.

She was startled as she turned to find Meg only a few inches away from her, Calypso's knife in hand. The girl looked at her in an interested way, the way a scientist would look at an experiment. Calypso squirmed, feeling the ropes burn against her skin.

"Daevas look very frightening, don't you think?" Meg asked with a smile. "Of course, humans can't see them, which is a shame. But you aren't human, are you, Calypso Daemgelus?"

"Don't call me that," Calypso protested. It was supposed to sound loud and confident, yet it came out small and meek.

"Oh, that's right," Meg said, sounding overjoyed by Calypso's anger. "You don't use that last name. Too many bad memories I suppose? Connections to before you ran away? Like dear Mr. Red Eyes-"

"Stop it!" Calypso yelled, finally finding the strength. The memories filled Calypso with terror, just as they always had. Meg smiled and was about to continue when a sound came from another post. Calypso looked in the direction to see Dean slowly waking up.

And a few feet away from him was the Daeva, with its black robes and sunken face. It wandered around in circles, seeming aggravated. Calypso just stared at it, the color draining from her face.

"Callie?" Dean asked, trying to see where her eyes led, but, to him, there was nothing there. "What are you looking at?"

"You don't see it..." Calypso whispered, afraid what would happen if she spoke loudly.

"See what?"

"The Daevas, of course," Meg said. There were more than one? Calypso wouldn't let herself look around to check. "Don't worry, it's natural for her to see them. She isn't human, remember?" She went over by Dean. "Because humans can't do anything right. Like how you got caught."

There was movement again, this time from Sam. And by Sam there was another Daeva. Calypso decided to just look down at her legs. If she saw another, she would have a frigging heart attack. She saw Meg's feet travel over to Sam and stop, waiting. After a moment, Sam finally opened his eyes.

"Hey, Sam? Don't take this the wrong way, but your girlfriend... is a bitch," Dean said loudly. There was a pause.

"This, the whole thing, was a trap," Sam realized. Really? Good job on figuring that one out, Sam! "Running into you at the bar, following you here, hearin' what you had to say. It was all a set-up, wasn't it?" Meg laughed. "And that the victims were from Lawrence?"

"It doesn't mean anything," Meg told him. "It was just to draw you in, that's all."

Calypso clenched her fists. The deaths were unnecessary, meaningless. Why did she even kill them?

"You killed those two people for nothing," Sam spat, on the same page.

"Baby, I've killed a lot more for a lot less," Meg quickly shot back.

"You trapped us. Good for you. It's Miller time," Dean said. He smiled. "But why don't you kill us already?"

"Not very quick on the uptake, are we?" Meg asked. She leaned in closer. "This trap isn't for you."

Calypso raised her head slightly, wide eyed, coming to the conclusion.

"Dad," Sam said for her. "It's a trap for Dad."

Dean looked up at Meg, who smiled down at him.

"Oh, sweetheart—you're dumber than you look," Dean told her. "'Cause even if Dad was in town, which he is not, he wouldn't walk into something like this. He's too good."

"He is pretty good," Meg admitted. "I'll give you that." She walked over to Dean and sat down, straddling his legs. "But you see, he has one weakness."

"What's that?" Dean asked.

"You," Meg answered. "He lets his guard down around his boys, lets his emotions cloud his judgment. I happen to know he is in town. And he'll come and try to save you. And then the Daevas will kill everybody—nice and slow and messy."

"I would raise my hand and wait to be called on, but, for obvious reasons, I kinda can't," Calypso said out of the blue. "There's a flaw in your plan. They can't kill me."

Meg laughed, delighted.

"Of course not," she told Calypso. "You're not supposed to be touched. My bosses have taken a special interest in you. They want to see you up close. See how you tick."

"Oh, sounds fun," Calypso said, sounding indifferent, though the idea of meeting Meg's bosses terrified her.

"Fun for them, I suppose," Meg replied, twirling Calypso's knife around. Calypso watched with narrowed eyes, ignoring the Daevas wandering around the room. "They love their experiments and tests. You'll be a popular subject."

"Wow, I'll have friends for once," Calypso said sarcastically. "You know, _if_ the Daevas can actually get the better of John Winchester. He won't go down easily, if he goes down at all."

"Yeah, it's gonna take a lot more than some… shadow to kill him," Dean agreed with Calypso's statement.

"Oh, the Daevas are in the room here—they're invisible," Meg informed them. She looked at Calypso, who was ready to protest and rolled her eyes. "Yes, we know. Except for you." She turned back to Sam and Dean. "Their shadows are just the only part you can see."

"Why are you doing this, Meg?" Sam asked. "What kind of deal you got worked out here, huh? And with who?"

"I'm doing this for the same reasons you do what you do—loyalty," Meg told him seriously. "Love. Like the love you had for Mommy—and Jess."

"Go to hell," Sam growled.

"Baby, I'm already there," Meg responded. She smiled and slid over to him, leaving Calypso's knife on the floor. "Come on, Sam. There's no need to be nasty." She leaned in to whisper in his ear. "I think we both know how you really feel about me. You know, I saw you watching me—changing in my apartment. Turned you on, didn't it?"

"Get a room, you two," Dean groaned in annoyance.

"Guys, come on, I'm fifteen, I don't need to see this," Calypso complained at the same time, looking the other way.

"I didn't mind," Meg continued as if she didn't hear them. "I liked that you were watching me. Come on, Sammy. You and I can still have a little dirty fun."

Calypso turned back around to see Meg kissing Sam's neck. She let out a quiet shriek and turned back around.

"Fifteen!" Calypso reminded them shrilly. Sure, she may have been able to kill without batting an eye, but when it came to love and, god forbid, kissing, Calypso was a bit squeamish.

"You wanna have fun?" Sam asked. "Go ahead then. I'm a little tied up right now."

Calypso frowned. Sam wouldn't usually do that. What was he planning? Was he getting free somehow? Didn't Meg take his knife, too? Maybe she didn't. Maybe it was only Calypso's that was taken.

Calypso heard Meg continue to kiss Sam, then a noise on Dean's side of the room. And naturally, so did Meg. She stopped kissing Sam and got up slowly. Calypso looked over to see her walk behind Dean's post, and toss a small object into a corner. Calypso knew it was a knife. Small, yes, but still useful. Meg swung back around to Dean's side of the post, and smiled. Dean chuckled guiltily and Calypso rolled her eyes. He had to make a noise.

Meg slid back over to Sam, and began kissing him again.

"Does age mean nothing to you people?!" Calypso yelled, looking away once again. And, once again, they ignored her.

"Now, were you just trying to distract me while your brother cuts free?" Meg asked Sam.

"No," Sam replied breathlessly. "No. That's because I have a knife of my own."

Calypso whipped her head around in surprise, just in time to see Sam break free of his ropes and grab Meg's shoulders, knocking his head against hers. She fell to the floor as Sam groaned in pain.

"Yes!" Calypso cheered.

"Sam!" Dean called at the same time. "Get the altar."

Sam rushed over to the altar and overturned it, causing the gory decorations to go everywhere. Calypso saw a change in the Daevas immediately, as they all turned and quickly traveled to the center of the room to Meg, their posture suggesting they were mad. Good.

The Daevas grabbed Meg's legs and dragged her across the floor, though her fingernails trying to get a hold of the floor as she screamed. But she couldn't get a grip, and was pulled out the window and dropped to the street seven stories below.

"Ouch," Calypso said sympathetically as the girl fell. "That's gotta hurt."

She looked around the Daeva free room to see Sam cutting Dean free from his ropes. After he was able to, Dean got up and accompanied Sam to Calypso's post to free her.

"Thanks," she told Sam once the ropes were off her wrists. She stood and walked over to her knife, then picked it up. She then joined the Winchesters by the window, staring down at Meg's dead body, sprawled on the sidewalk.

"Certainly looks dead," Calypso noticed, breaking the silence.

"I guess the Daevas didn't like being bossed around," Sam said. Calypso smiled and turned back around.

"Yeah, I guess not," Dean agreed. "Hey, Sam?"

"Hm?"

"Next time you wanna get laid, find a girl that's not so buckets-o'-crazy, huh?"

He smiled and walked away, Calypso following close behind.

By the time they got back to the motel room, the Winchesters and Calypso were exhausted. Calypso needed to sit down, take a shower. She wasn't up for anymore running around.

"Why didn't you just leave that stuff in the car?" Dean asked as they walked up the hall to their motel room.

"I said it before, and I'll say it again—better safe than sorry," Sam explained again.

Calypso nodded and Dean unlocked and opened the door to the room. They entered, only to see the silhouette of a man standing by the window.

"Hey!" Dean said loudly. Calypso could barely see, blocked by the boys in the back of the entryway. Sam quickly switched on the light and the man turned around. Calypso's mouth fell open. There was no way. "Dad?"

"Hey, boys," John Winchester said simply. Both smiling, Dean and his father walked towards each other and shared a long hug. Though she couldn't see his face, Calypso knew Sam was watching sadly, wanting to do the same thing. Dean and John pulled apart after a few seconds. "Hi, Sam."

"Hey, Dad," Sam said softly. He and his father didn't hug, but looked at each other as if they wanted to. Sam placed the bag of weapons on the ground.

"So, I take it that you aren't a reporter for the Colorado Tribune?" Calypso asked John coolly, finally recovering from the shock.

Sam and Dean looked from Calypso, her arms crossed, to their father, and back again. They knew each other? How?

"No," John admitted, amazed. "I'm sorry I lied about who I was. I needed to talk to you."

"Was I a potential case?" Calypso asked, not sounding distressed or angry. In fact, she only sounded politely interested.

"No, no," John said hurriedly. "You were never a case. I just wanted to check in on you."

"Why? Did you know my mom?" she asked. John nodded.

"Yes, I did," he told her. "She was a friend of mine."

Calypso nodded and took a few steps closer.

"Did she ask you to look after me?" she asked.

"Yes, she did."

Calypso's eyes shined.

"I knew she wouldn't leave me alone," she whispered, just loud enough for everyone to hear.

"She never wanted to leave you in the first place," John told her.

"Wait, what's going on?" Sam finally cut in. "You two know each other?"

"Sort of," John replied. "We only met face to face once. You were 13, right?" Calypso nodded. "I interviewed her about how she was doing after her mother's death. It's a long story for another time." His eyes went back to his boys and Calypso smiled. It was contently quiet for a few seconds.

"Dad, it was a trap," Dean finally said on a more somber note. "I didn't know, I'm sorry."

What was there to be sorry about? He and Sam handled the situation well. Calypso was the one who should have been apologizing. All she did was sit there, tied to a post. She didn't even fight! God, she was useless.

"It's all right," John told him. "I thought it might've been."

"Were you there?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, I got there just in time to see the girl take the swan dive," John admitted. "She was the bad guy, right?"

"Yes, sir," Sam and Dean replied together while Calypso nodded mutely, then looked around, confused. Was this the military? Was she supposed to say 'yes sir' and 'no sir' all the time? Maybe she should just stay quiet...

"Good," John said. "Well, it doesn't surprise me. It's tried to stop me before."

"The demon has?" Sam wondered.

"It knows I'm close," John answered. "It knows I'm gonna kill it. Not just exorcise it or send it back to hell—actually kill it."

"How?" Calypso asked, still by the door. Then she bit her tongue. Did she say something wrong? Did she speak out of turn?

John smiled, so she assumed not.

"I'm workin' on that," he replied vaguely.

"Let us come with you," Sam begged. "We'll help."

Calypso saw Dean shoot Sam a warning look.

"No, Sam," John refused. "Not yet. Just try to understand. This demon is a scary son of a bitch. I don't want you caught in a crossfire. I don't want you hurt."

"Dad, you don't have to worry about us." His gaze went to Calypso. "Any of us."

"Of course I do," John disagreed. "I'm your father." He paused, looking at his youngest son. "Listen, Sammy, last time we were together, we had one hell of a fight."

"Yes, sir."

"It's good to see you again," John told his son. "It's been a long time."

"Too long," Sam said. Calypso smiled tightly. She knew John wouldn't hurt her, but something about middle age men made her nervous.

Sam and his father finally embraced with wet eyes. A minute later, they pulled apart and the three looked around their group tearfully. Calypso looked at her feet. She knew this was coming, but hadn't expected it so soon. She was being shunted aside, excluded from the group. That was okay, though. She was used to it.

Calypso tensed suddenly, and looked up. Something was wrong. Evil pushed against Calypso, it's cold anger a warning of what was about to happen. So when she saw a Daeva behind John, poised to attack him, she screamed.

Though it was only for a moment, three very confused faces turned her way. Calypso stared back meaningfully. Didn't they see that she was trying to help them? Before she could say anything, the Daeva sliced upward, throwing John into a set of cabinets before the man fell to the ground. Then Sam fell, too.

"No!" Dean yelled, before joining his family on the floor.

Calypso looked around in shock, then pulled out her knife and headed straight into the fight. She was needed.

The Daeva attacking Sam was right in front of her, raising its claws and about to bring them down. Calypso, not thinking for a moment, jumped in front of Sam as the Daeva sliced down.

The pain was like a whip slicing across her face, stinging so badly her eyes began to water. But Calypso didn't have time to acknowledge the pain. She raised her head back up, snarling, and jumped on the Daeva, her knife stabbing through where she guessed its heart was. The Daeva screeched, sounding like a song on one of the tapes from the impala, and seemed to melt away. Calypso guessed that it was dead.

It was only afterwards that she would wonder how she killed a demon with a plain knife.

She looked around the dark room and widened her eyes. There were three other Daevas, two attacking Dean and John, and the last one looking straight at Calypso. She brought her knife up again, eyes narrowed. She heard movement behind her as Sam got out of the way.

The Daeva dove forward, but Calypso stepped aside and it missed her. She turned around quickly, but the Daeva had already done the same. They just stared at each other for a moment, at a stalemate. Calypso could keep dodging, but she would never touch the thing. The Daeva could keep charging at her, but she would always dodge. One of them would have to break the pattern.

It ended up being Calypso. She darted forward to attack the Daeva's side, and got a good slice in before the demon whipped around with a snarl and shoved her up against the wall. She let out a cry of pain as a doorknob dug into her back, but the Daeva kept pushing her harder into the door, its hands on her neck. She glared at it, then swung her feet out. They connected with what Calypso thought were the Daeva's legs, and it toppled to the ground. Calypso wasted no time before she brought the knife down, straight into the heart of the creature. It died the same way its brother did, screaming and melting.

Calypso looked around the room again, keeping tabs on how everyone was doing. Clearly not well. Dean and his father were being sliced apart, the Daevas unyielding. But where was Sam?

She looked around again and saw Sam at the bag of weapons he had dropped when he had seen his dad. Calypso saw him take out a flare, and didn't understand at first. What use would that be? Then she got it. Sam was a genius!

"Shut your eyes!" Sam called to his family. "These things are shadow demons, so let's light 'em up!"

He lit the flare and the room was instantly showered in a brilliant white light and smoke appeared everywhere. Calypso watched the Daevas disappear right in front of her eyes and took a deep breath. She gagged on the smoke, then began to feel her way to the exit, coughing.

"Dad!" Calypso heard Dean call from the left of her.

"Over here!" Came the reply. There was scuffling. Calypso finally broke out of the smoke and waited for everyone. First came Dean, supporting a very bloody John. Sam followed, carrying the bag of weapons.

"Is everyone okay?" Calypso asked calmly, her knife still at the ready, just in case.

"Define okay," Dean told her.

"Alive."

"Then yes."

They exited the building and hurried down an alley to the impala. Calypso was handed the bag of weapons and quickly placed them in the backseat of the car.

"All right, come on," Sam said worriedly. "We don't have much time. As soon as the flare's out, they'll be back."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Dean protested. He paused, looking at everyone regretfully. "Sam, wait. Dad, you can't come with us."

"What?" Sam exclaimed in disbelief. "What are you talkin' about?"

"You three—you're beat to hell," John worried.

"We're gonna be okay," Calypso reassured him. Sam looked at her as if she betrayed him, but all she knew was that if everyone was together they had a bigger chance of getting killed.

"Guys, we should stick together. We'll go after those demons—" Sam tried to convince them. Calypso reached up and held her necklace tightly, hating herself for wanting to split the family up. Still, it was for the best.

"Sam!" Dean protested. "Listen to me! We almost got Dad killed in there. Don't you understand? They're not gonna stop. They're gonna try again. They're gonna use us to get to him. I mean, Meg was right. Dad's vulnerable when he's with us." Dean seemed to despise himself for saying this. "He—he's stronger without us around."

"Dad-no," Sam begged, putting a hand on his father's shoulder while Dean and Calypso watched sadly. "After everything-after all the time we spent lookin' for you—please. I gotta be a part of this fight."

"Sammy, this fight is just starting," John tried to convince his son. "And we are all gonna have a part to play. For now, you've got to trust me, son." Sam shook his head. No. "Okay, you've gotta let me go." Everyone was absolutely silent for a moment, Sam, Dean, and John close to tears. Sam looked at his hand, still on his father's shoulder, and patted the area once before letting go. The man looked at Calypso sadly, who stared back up at him with a clear, emotionless face. John and Dean shared a look, then John walked back to his truck. He looked back at them one more time. "Be careful," he warned before getting in his truck and driving away.

"Come on," Dean ordered after a moment.

The three quickly filed into the car and watched John's truck turn a corner, going out of sight. Without a word, Dean started the car and backed down the street, rounding a different corner than John.

Calypso looked out the window at the city lights, worried. She had been the one to research Daevas, and she knew they couldn't be killed, just set free. So what had she done? She was worrying herself. What was so powerful that it could kill an immortal creature?

What was she?


	11. Chapter 11

**I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while. My grandmother recently passed away so I couldn't write. To top that off, my laptop's wifi was freaking out and I had to get it fixed. I'm back now, though, so I'll update more in the future.**

"So, Calypso, your mother died seven years ago, right?" asked the reporter. Thirteen year old Calypso looked up through her hair and nodded, frightened. Why her father thought this interview was a good idea, she had no clue. But it was what he wanted, so she agreed without question. "How have you been doing since then?"

Calypso looked at her father in the chair next to her and he gave her an encouraging smile and nod. She took a shaky breath, not wanting to revisit the memories.

"I'm doing fine, now," she said softly. "At first I was in shock, physically and emotionally, but I've adjusted. Though the memories still hurt, I'm okay."

The reporter nodded, not knowing that this was what she told everyone who asked her that question.

"And your social life is fine?" the man asked.

"Yeah," Calypso lied. "My best friend is named Sera. We hang out a lot." She frowned, confused. "But how does that relate to what happened to my mom?"

"In some cases, those who have experienced traumatic events tend to push people away," the reporter explained. "It seems that you don't, though."

"I don't think so," Calypso replied thoughtfully. "Sera and I have been friends for a couple years, now."

"That's good," the reporter said, scribbling something down in his notebook. "And how's your home life?"

"My daughter and I are very close," Calypso's father explained, smiling at her fondly. He patted her back gently, and Calypso genuinely smiled. "I'm so proud of her for dealing with what happened so well."

Calypso felt her heart fill with happiness and she beamed. Her dad had praised her! She had done something right!

"That's great," the reporter told him. He folded his notebook up. "I think that's it, thank you."

"Oh, it was no trouble," Calypso said. She smiled politely at the man, then got up and opened the door for him. Behind her, Calypso's father went into the kitchen. The reporter exited onto the porch and turned around to look back at her, a peculiar expression on his face. It almost seemed like concern. Calypso stared back cautiously. She didn't know this man. He didn't really understand anything about her. So why was he acting like he did?

"I'll see you around, Calypso," he told her. She nodded, suddenly uncomfortable.

"Um, yeah," she agreed. "Goodbye, sir."

As the reporter walked down the driveway to his car, a vehicle looking to be almost fifty, Calypso peered at him through the blinds covering the window. What did he want with her? Why did he act like he knew her when she was certain they had never met before?

It was two years later that she discovered the "reporter," was named John Winchester.

_Suspect arrested for murder of two women on college campus._

_Robbery spree in local neighborhood._

_Man accused of fraud pleads guilty._

Calypso sighed in frustration as she searched through headlines, looking for possible jobs.

"I'm not finding much," she complained, disappointed. "How about you guys?"

Dean folded up the newspaper he was holding.

"Not a decent lead in all of Nebraska. What've you got, Sam?"

"Well, I've been scanning Wyoming, Colorado, South Dakota," Sam shared, clicking on his laptop. "Here. A woman in Iowa fell 10,000 feet from an airplane and survived."

"Sounds more like 'That's Incredible' than, uh, 'Twilight Zone'," Dean pointed out. Calypso nodded thoughtfully.

"Yeah," Sam agreed.

"Hey, you know we could just keep heading east," Dean said, smirking. "New York. Upstate. We could drop by and see Sarah again. Huh? Cool chick man, smokin'." He whistled and Calypso rolled her eyes. Sarah was a nice girl that they had recently saved from the vengeful spirit of a little girl. She and Sam seemed to like each other, and Dean wasn't letting his brother forget it. "You two seemed pretty friendly. What do you say?"

"Yeah, I dunno, maybe someday," Sam agreed half-heartedly. "But in the meantime we got a lot of work to do, Dean, and you know that."

"Yeah all right. What else you got?" Dean asked.

"Ah, man in Colorado, local man named Daniel Elkins, was found mauled in his home," Sam said.

"Ugh, I couldn't find anything like that anywhere," Calypso muttered to herself.

"Elkins? I know that name," Dean mused.

"Doesn't ring a bell," said Sam.

"Elkins...Elkins...Elkins," Dean repeated under his breath.

"Sounds like the police don't know what to think," Sam stated. "At first they said it was some sort of bear attack and now they've found some signs of robbery."

"Huh," Calypso said, interested. "That sounds like something."

"Mm-hmm," Dean agreed, sounding as if he didn't even hear his brother. He began flicking through his father's journal. "There, check it out."

Dean handed the journal to Sam and pointed. Calypso stood up and went behind Sam to read 'D Elkins,' and a phone number. She tilted her head.

"Daniel Elkins," she said, stating the obvious.

"You think it's the same Elkins?" Sam asked her and Dean.

"That's a Colorado area code," Calypso noted thoughtfully. She turned to see Sam's raised eyebrows and bit her lip. "What?" she asked, not looking either brother in the eye. "Maybe I know a bit about the place."

Calypso had to pick the lock to get inside Daniel Elkins' house once they arrived. Behind her stood Sam and Dean, armed with flashlights.

Calypso and Dean both went into what seemed like the office first while Sam stayed a moment by the door.

"Looks like the maid didn't come today," Dean commented, looking at the mess.

"No kidding," Calypso agreed.

"Hey, there's salt over here," Sam called. "Right beside the door."

"You mean protection against demon salt, or 'oops I spilled the popcorn' salt?" Dean asked, flipping through Elkins' journal. Calypso peered over his shoulder to see the book.

"It's clearly a ring. You think this guy Elkins was a player?" Sam wondered.

"Definitely," Dean told his brother. Calypso agreed, judging based on what appeared in the journal. Who else would write about hunting ghosts and monsters?

Sam came up behind her and Dean to join in looking at the journal.

"That looks a hell of a lot like Dad's," Sam commented.

"Yep, except this dates back to the 60s," Dean told him.

"Jeez," Calypso said under her breath.

They then moved into the room in which Elkins was killed in, and Sam and Dean shined their flashlights around the destruction, including a massive hole in the roof.

"Whatever attacked him, it looks like there was more than one," Sam observed.

"It looks like he fought pretty hard, too," Calypso added sadly.

"Yeah."

They separated and looked around the room. Calypso looked up at the hole in the roof. Whatever killed the man, it was strong.

"You got something?" Sam asked. Calypso looked over to see Dean crouched on the ground.

"I dunno. Some scratches on the floor," Dean replied.

"Death throes maybe?" Sam suggested.

"Maybe they were there before. Could just be scratches acquired over the years," Calypso told him.

"Yeah, maybe," Dean agreed doubtfully. He tore a page from a notebook and placed it over the marks, then grabbed a pencil and rubbed it over the paper to get an outline. "Or maybe a message." He peeled up the paper, which was sticking the ground from the blood on the back of it, and handed the paper to Sam. Calypso wandered over. "Look familiar?"

"Three letters, six digits," Sam noticed. "The location and combination of a post office box. It's a mail drop."

"Just the way Dad does it."

They went to the post office and picked up the letter, but didn't open it. What confused was who it was addressed to.

"'J.W.'" Sam read off the envelope. "You think? John Winchester?"

They hadn't opened the letter yet, out of confusion about who it was addressed to. Could it really be for John Winchester?

"I don't know. Should we open it?" Dean asked.

Before anyone could answer, there was a sudden loud tap on Dean's window and all three of them jumped, tensing for a fight. Then Calypso laughed, the first to realize what was going on.

It was John Winchester, smiling as he realized that he startled the group.

"Dad?" Dean asked, stunned.

John opened the door to where Calypso sat and she slid over to the right side seat in the back to give him room. He climbed into the car.

"Dad, what are you doing here? Are you all right?" Sam asked, concerned.

"Yeah, I'm ok," John reassured his son. "I read the news about Daniel, I got here as fast as I could. I saw you two at his place."

"Why didn't you come in Dad?" Sam asked softly.

"You know why," John said. "Because I had to make sure you weren't followed... by anyone or anything. Nice job of covering your tracks by the way."

"Yeah, well, we learned from the best," Dean said. Calypso could sense a hint of pride in his voice and smiled, then frowned in confusion.

"You came all the way out her for Elkins?" she asked.

"Yeah," John replied sadly. "He was... he was a good man. He taught me a hell of a lot about hunting."

"Well, you never mentioned him to us," Sam pointed out.

"We had a... we had kind of a falling out. I hadn't seen him in years," he told them. He gestured to the envelope. "I should look at that." Sam handed him the letter, and John opened it. "'If you're reading this, I'm already dead'..." John read aloud. He quickly scanned over the rest in silence. "That son of a bitch."

"What is it?" Dean asked.

"He had it the whole time," John answered vaguely.

"Dad, what?" Sam asked.

"When you searched the place, did you, did you see a gun?" John asked. "An antique, a Colt revolver, did you see it?"

"No, the gun wasn't there, but I think the case for it was," Calypso remembered. "It looked pretty old."

"They have it," John realized.

"You mean whatever killed Elkins?" Dean clarified. John began to get out of the car.

"We gotta pick up the trail," John continued, seeming to not hear his son.

"Wait. You want us to come with you?" Sam asked.

"If Elkins was telling the truth, we gotta find this gun," John told Sam.

"The gun - why?" Sam wondered.

"Because it's important, that's why," John refused to elaborate. Calypso was about to tell him they were going to need more than that, but Sam began to speak before she opened her mouth.

"Dad, we don't even know what these things are yet," Sam protested.

"They were what Daniel Elkins killed best: Vampires," John explained. Calypso exhaled sharply.

"No, I hate those things," she complained. John looked over at her in surprise.

"You know about them?" he asked.

"They were my first hunt," Calypso explained. "Sam and Dean helped me out. That's when we first met, and I guess I just kinda stuck on."

"We learned about them from Caleb," Dean said. Who was Caleb? "We were kinda stuck on a case in Seattle, and he told us what we were dealing with. Then Callie came along and-"

"Messed everything up," Calypso finished for him.

"I was gonna say saved our asses," Dean continued, looking at her fondly for a moment. A faint smile showed on her face.

"What do you know about them?" John asked.

"Not much. We learned that they are killed only by beheading, but that's really about it. We ran into them a couple times, so we know they look human," Sam summarized.

"We also know they get pretty pissed off when you drop a huge metal vent on them," Calypso added. Dean grinned.

"I thought they were extinct," John told them, not hearing Calypso's remark. "I thought Elkins and - and others had wiped them out. I was wrong." He paused. "You still have a lot to learn about them. Most vampire lore is crap. A cross won't repel them, sunlight won't kill them, and neither will a stake to the heart. But the bloodlust, that part's true. They need fresh human blood to survive. And, as you know, they were once people, so you won't know they're one until it's too late."

"Wonderful," Calypso muttered. It was like a repeat of her first hunt, except this time she knew more.

This time, she was ready.

Back at the motel, Sam and Dean slept as John and Calypso stayed up, listening to the police scanner.

"You're not gonna sleep?" John asked, sitting at the table. Calypso shook her head, shifting her gaze from her phone to him for a moment.

"No, I never really do," she replied. She looked back down at her phone, at old text messages and pictures.

"Why not?" John persisted.

"Because I'm gonna wake up, anyway," Calypso told him, trying to disguise her voice, but failing. Instead of the desired emotionless voice, fear was easily distinguishable as she spoke.

"Why do you say that?"

"I only have nightmares. Bad ones," she stated, turning her phone off and looking John in the eye. "I think the same thing happened to you for a few years after your wife died."

John was silent for a moment and Calypso worried that what she said was too personal, but was proven wrong after a moment.

"It did," he agreed. "But they are becoming less and less."

"Well, my mom was… Killed," Calypso struggled, not wanting to say the word, "when I was just a kid. I was... Was tortured when I was only six years old. I wasn't grown up yet, so it became a major event in my childhood." She sighed. "And I can't forget it."

"What happened?" John asked. Calypso looked out the window sadly, not answering. She didn't really want to talk about it, but at the same time, she wanted someone to understand for once.

"Do you really want to know?" Calypso asked. John nodded. "Okay." She sighed, bracing herself. "I was just sitting in my room that morning, reading, like I always did. I was almost done with rereading the first Harry Potter book. Th-then this man broke through my bedroom door and dragged me downstairs. I screamed and-and I cried and I tried to break his grip, but I mean, I was just a kid. I c-couldn't do anything. Nobody was in the house. N-nobody came to save me." She swallowed nervously, remembering the rest. "He dragged me down into the living room, then threw me onto the ground. When he turned around, I-I tried to crawl away, but… But he turned back and kicked me in the side, hard. He didn't like that I tried to run, s-so he tied my hands and feet together. Then he got out this-this metal baseball bat, and started hitting me with it. And I screamed. I screamed so loud it scared even me." Calypso looked away. "That's when he broke my arm, I think. And w-when he stopped, he was l-laughing and got a knife. You can probably imagine what happened there. I-I think I blacked out for some of it. Then, when he was bored of knives, he-he found other creative things to do to me. It was like there was a s-sick order to the torture. I… I can still remember every second. There was a needle that was injected, and there was the w-worst pain because of it... He took out a c-couple fingernails and t-teeth. Pressure points, strangling, c-crushing, it all happened. By the end I was… I was a bloody mess."

"That's… That's awful," John commented, clearly horrified.

"I'm not finished yet," Calypso told him. Once she started the story, she needed to finish it. Strangely, however, she was slightly calmer as she continued. "He got out the knife one more time, and was about to stab me, right here." She pointed to her heart. "That's when mom came in. The man didn't see her at first. Sh-she could've just left, but no." Calypso wiped a tear off her face, trying to not show emotion in front of John Winchester. She was not weak. She had to prove it. "She was always so big at keeping her baby girl safe. So, instead of being sensible and leaving, she charged right in. She told him to let me go, but the man just laughed. So mom tried to attack him using a knife she suddenly had in her hand." Calypso held up her silver knife, the one she always fought with. "This one. She fought well. I remember being stunned. But the man overpowered her and-" she choked on her words and began to cry quietly, her head in her hands.

"I'm sorry," John told her quietly. She brought her head back up, eyes red.

"When I was in the hospital, they told me that, because of the injuries I had, I should have been dead," Calypso said, her voice without emotion. "They said I was lucky. A miracle child. But a year later, I figured out that luck had nothing to do with it."

"Why not?" John asked, confused.

"Didn't Sam and Dean tell you?" Calypso asked, equally puzzled. "I can't die."

It was quiet for a moment and Calypso realized just how important her words were. She bit her lip, wishing she phrased it a bit better.

"What?" John asked in shock.

"It is physically impossible for me to die," she explained. "If you were to try to shoot me in the head right now, the bullet would hit my skull and shatter. I'd still be standing. Trust me, it's happened before."

"You really can't die?" John said, the fact finally sinking in. Calypso shook her head.

"I really can't."

"Is there anything else I should know?" he asked, sounding as if nothing else would surprise him.

Calypso considered what to tell him. This was the tricky part. He knew nothing about her powers, whatever they were, or what she was. But he was a Winchester. He deserved to know what she did.

"I'm not human," Calypso confided. "I might be partially, I don't know. But not fully." She paused and John nodded.

"I figured," he told her. "Something about you is different than any other child I've met."

Child? She felt much older than that, now.

"When I sleep, I can send my soul out of my body," Calypso continued. "I can control and sense ghosts and reapers. And I can kill demons that can't be killed." John looked at her, shocked. "When the Daevas attacked in Chicago, I killed two of them, using only the knife."

"That's..."

"Impossible. Yeah."

It was quiet for a moment.

"So you're not fully human," John repeated, dazed. "Your mom seemed human, though. Your dad-"

"Is also human, as far as I know," Calypso interrupted shrilly. "Just like everyone else. Nothing's wrong with him." John looked at her strangely.

"Are you okay?" he asked. She pursed her lips, thinking.

"It's just... I feel like I have to always defend him..." she began hesitantly, knowing he would misunderstand her. "Father would get into moods sometimes... And, um, he would..."

She looked away nervously and John frowned.

"Your father abused you?" he asked angrily.

"No, not like that! It was only like that once or twice, when he got drunk, or something!" Calypso protested. "The rest only happened when I did something wrong, like if I came home late or brought friends over."

"Calypso, that's called abuse," John insisted.

"My father loves me," Calypso said confidently. "He would never abuse me. It was just punishment when I deserved it."

John reached across the table and put his hand on top of her hers gently.

"Calypso, I told your mother that I would protect you if anything happened to her," he explained. "And I'm trying to protect you by saying that your father abused you. It wasn't punishment, it wasn't normal, it was plain abuse. That's why you ran away, isn't it?"

"No," Calypso admitted. "I-It's not something I like to talk about." John looked at her expectantly and Calypso sighed. "My best friend killed herself because of me. There. Happy?"

"I'm sorry," John apologized.

"Yeah, so am I," Calypso said.

"And you never told Sam or Dean?" John asked after a moment. "About any of it?"

"No," Calypso replied. "I figured they have enough to deal with. They don't need to worry about me and my stupid problems."

"Your problems aren't stupid," John insisted. "You should tell Sam and Dean. They can take care of you."

It was quiet.

"So, how did you know my mom?" Calypso asked, breaking the silence.

"She was one of Mary's friends," John explained. "Came by for dinner every so often. When I began hunting, she took care of the boys a couple times. I'm sure they were too young to remember. She married and had you a few years later. We lost touch for a while. Then, one day out of the blue, she showed up at the motel Sam, Dean, and I were staying at. She seemed nervous. We talked outside and she told me that she was worried that something was going to happen to the two of you. I asked what, but she wouldn't tell me." He frowned. "Now I wonder if she knew about the man that ended up killing her. Anyway, she made me promise to look after you if anything happened to her. She knew my hands were full with Sam and Dean, but begged me to do it, telling me that I was the last person left that she trusted. So I promised."

"Then she died," Calypso predicted.

"Yes, and I took care of you to the best of my ability," John continued. "But I couldn't bring you into the life of a hunter, so I left you with your father. Now I wish I didn't." Calypso was about to interrupt, but he kept speaking. "Every few months I would check on you, but everything seemed okay. Then, about a year ago, I checked on you and you weren't there."

"I ran away," Calypso told him, not able to look him in the eye. "I wasn't strong enough to deal with everything anymore, so I left."

"No," John disagreed, shaking his head. "You were strong for dealing with everything for that long."

They sat in silence for the rest of the night, John nodding off more than a couple times. It was in the morning that an interesting conversation was transmitted over the police radio, Sam and Dean still sleeping peacefully.

"Unit 22 let me confirm. Mile marker 41, abandoned car. You need a workup?" A voice said from the radio. Calypso and John had been listening for the past hour or so, and heard the events unfold. A couple had called 911 after seeing a body in the street, but only their car was found. Calypso and John both knew what had happened. Vampires. They had a clever hunting strategy, Calypso had to give them that.

"Copy that. Possible 207. Better get forensics out here," came the reply. John and Calypso exchanged a glance before they stood up, John setting the radio down, and put on their jackets.

"Sam, Dean, let's go," John called, waking the boys up.

"Mm-hmm," Dean responded immediately, although he was still asleep. Sam tried to sit up and Dean began rubbing his eyes.

"I picked up a police call," John explained.

"What happened?" Sam asked, still sounding tired.

"A couple called 911, found a body in the street," John told him. "Cops got there, everyone was missing. It's the vampires. "

"How do you know?" Sam asked, rising from the bed.

"Because it's a clever hunting strategy," Calypso answered as John left. "People pull over at the sight of a body, check to see if they're alright, and the vampires have dinner. Gotta hand it to them, they're smart."

Sam walked across the room, putting his jacket on as Dean spoke, still half asleep.

"Huh, vampires. Gets funnier every time I hear it."

Cops were already at the scene by the time they got there, so John went to talk to them. Alone. Sam clearly wasn't thrilled to be sticking by the impala with Dean and Calypso, but neither commented on his behavior. By the time John was finished and walking back, he was complaining out loud.

"I don't see why we couldn't have gone over with him," Sam complained, sulking a bit. Calypso turned to him with a sigh.

"Oh, don't tell me it's already starting," Dean told him.

"What's starting?" Sam asked. But Dean never answered, as John had just arrived at the impala.

"What've you got?" Dean asked.

"It was them all right," John confirmed. "Looks like they're heading west. We'll have to double back to get around that detour."

Calypso nodded in agreement to the plan. That was a good enough answer for her.

"How can you be so sure?" Sam asked. Calypso frowned. He was beginning to sound kind of bratty.

"Sam..." Dean warned.

"I just wanna know we're going in the right direction," he told Dean sharply. Sam had a point…

"We are," John answered simply.

"Sam made a good point though," Calypso said. She didn't sound bratty or annoyed like him, just interested. "How did you figure that out?"

"I found this," John replied, handing something to Dean. Calypso leaned forward to see.

"It's a... a vampire fang," Dean observed.

"Looks like a regular tooth, though," Calypso noticed, confused.

"Yeah, they're not fangs, they're teeth. The second set descends when they attack," John explained. He looked at Sam pointedly. "Any more questions?" he asked. Sam looked away and remained silent. "All right, let's get out of here, we're losing daylight."

As Sam, Dean, and Calypso headed for the impala and John went towards his truck, Calypso turned to Dean and raised her eyebrows, but he only shrugged at her. Was it just a bad day, then? What was going on?

"Hey Dean why don't you touch up your car before you get rust?" John suggested rudely as he walked by the vehicle. "I wouldn't have given you the damn thing if I thought you were going to ruin it."

Calypso looked down at the car, confused. Other than being a little dusty, the impala was in perfect shape, as usual. What was John saying? It looked almost brand new. Was he always like this? He hadn't been so rude and blunt the night before.

Why were Sam and John being like this?

Sam drove the impala for once, Dean in the passenger seat and Calypso in the back. They followed closely behind John's truck as Dean described usual vampire habits.

"Vampires nest in groups of eight to ten," Dean read to everyone in the car. "Smaller packs are sent to hunt for food. Victims are taken to the nest where the pack keeps them alive, bleeding them for days or weeks. I wonder if that's what happened to that 911 couple."

Calypso nodded while Sam replied.

"That's probably what Dad's thinking," Sam said grumpily. "'Course it would be nice if he just told us what he thinks."

"Okay, really, what's going on?" Calypso asked, annoyed. "I'm getting kind of fed up with this. You've been looking for your father for almost a year now, and as soon as you finally work on a case together, you start getting all mad at him? I mean, come on, Sam!"

"Couldn't have said it better myself," Dean agreed.

"Look, I'm happy he's ok, all right?" Sam told the two of them. "And I'm happy that we're all working together again."

"Well good," Dean said.

"It's just the way he treats us, like we're children," Sam continued, unable to help himself.

"Oh God," Dean muttered under his breath.

"You are his children!" Calypso protested. "He probably feels protective! He doesn't want you to-" She suddenly quieted down, a look of dawning comprehension on her face. "He doesn't want you to get hurt..."

Maybe an occasional beating or anything her dad did wasn't normal. Fathers were supposed to be protective and loving. But Calypso couldn't bring herself to admit that to herself. No, her father loved her. She still loved him, no matter what he did. He would calm down eventually. Maybe he could eventually be loving and protective, and they could be a family again. Until then, Calypso just had to wait.

"You don't understand, you haven't known him long," Sam said dismissively, not noticing Calypso's change in behavior, whereas Dean tried to make eye contact in the mirror, but she looked away. "He barks orders at us, he expects us to follow 'em without question. He keeps us on some crap need-to-know deal."

"He does what he does for a reason," Dean protested.

"What reason?" Sam asked.

"What did I just say?" Calypso asked, annoyed.

"Our job!" Dean said, clearly just as annoyed as Calypso. "There's no time to argue, there's no margin for error, all right? That's just the way the old man runs things."

"Yeah well maybe that worked when we were kids but not anymore, all right. Yeah, we're his kids, but we're not children," Sam argued. Well, technically Calypso was still a child. She may have almost been sixteen, but not for a couple months. "Not after everything you and I have been through, Dean. I mean, are you telling me you're cool with just falling into line, and letting him run the whole show?"

He looked at Dean challengingly, and his brother gave him a long look. It seemed almost weak, Calypso noticed, as if he was convincing himself.

If that's what it takes," Dean replied.

Sam just shook his head.

Sam was still driving that night, on their way to the vampire nest, when John

"Yeah Dad," Dean spoke on the phone. "All right, got it." He hung up and turned to Sam. "Pull off at the next exit."

"Why," Sam said angrily.

"Cause Dad thinks we've got the vampire's trail," Dean explained.

"How," Sam replied, even angrier than before.

"I don't know," Dean told him. "He didn't say."

"Does it matter?" Calypso asked, tired of this arguing. Sam ignored her, and suddenly gunned the engine, pushing her back against the seat, hard. "Whoa!" She looked back as they overtook John's truck and bit her lip. "Sam, we don't have time for this!"

"I don't care!" Sam replied, braking suddenly. The impala swerved sideways in front of John's truck, making them both stop.

"Oh crap. Here we go," Dean said as Sam got out of the car. "Sam!"

"What the hell?" Calypso wondered out loud as she and Dean both followed Sam out of the impala, hoping to calm him down. It didn't seem as if that was going to happen, seeing as they were both already out of their cars and looking pretty pissed off. "Sam, come on!"

"What the hell was that?" John asked.

"We need to talk," Sam told him. Calypso awkwardly hovered behind him, but couldn't help from adding a comment.

"Sam, people are getting killed," Calypso protested timidly. "We have to-"

"About what?" John asked, coming to a halt, face to face with Sam. Calypso looked at Dean helplessly. She didn't want to make things worse than they were.

"About everything. Where are we going, Dad?" Sam asked. "What's the big deal about this gun?"

"Sammy, come on, we can Q and A after we kill all the vampires," Dean tried to intervene.

"Your brother's right, we don't have time for this," John told Sam angrily. Then again, every comment made in this conversation was angry.

"Last time we saw you, you said it was too dangerous for us to be together. Now out of the blue you need our help," Sam stated. He suddenly started yelling. "Now obviously something big is going down, and we wanna know what!"

"Sam, those people could be dying right now," Calypso told him a little louder. "We should go, talk about this later."

"Shut up!" Sam yelled, turning to her. She stepped back, eyes wide and mouth open in an 'o'. The amount of ferocity in his voice, how he just said it, reminded her of her father. She loved her father dearly, of course, but he terrified her. Just as Sam terrified her now.

"I'm sorry," she squeaked out, clutching her necklace like a lifeline. "I-"

"Get back in the car," John told Sam, a deadly calm in his voice as he observed Calypso. Dean put a comforting hand on her arm and she calmed slightly, but still had her 'deer in the headlights' look on her face.

"No," Sam said disobediently.

"I said get back in the damn car," John repeated, angrier.

"Yeah," Sam told him. "And I said no."

"Ok you made your point tough guy," Dean tried to convince him. "Look we're all tired, we can talk about this later. Sammy, I mean it, come on."

"Please, Sam," Calypso begged softly, having lost most of her confidence.

Dean grabbed Sam and began pushing him back to the car while Calypso followed nervously.

"This is why I left in the first place," Sam mumbled. Calypso was stunned. She knew how Sam left John and Dean alone to go to college, but never thought it was a very big deal. Evidently, it was a touchier subject than she thought.

"What'd you say?" John asked, his tone as sharp as a knife.

"You heard me," Sam said, swinging back. No, they were so close!

"Yeah. You left," John agreed. "Your brother and me, we needed you. You walked away, Sam."

"Sam..." Dean said, trying so hard to keep everything from exploding.

"You walked away!" John yelled in Sam's face.

"No, stop!" Calypso protested quietly. She couldn't stand the arguing. She couldn't let it happen. It had to stop!

"Stop it, both of you," Dean told his family at the same time.

"You're the one who said don't come back Dad, you closed that door not me," Sam argued. "You were just pissed off that you couldn't control me anymore!"

"STOP IT!" Calypso yelled, her hands clutching her head, close to tears. Three sets of eyes turned to look at her and she froze. "Just... Stop it..."

"Yeah, that's enough!" Dean added on. Calypso looked at him, thankful. Tension still seemed high, so he pushed his way through the two of them, keeping them apart, though they still stared at each other over Dean's head. "That means you too," Dean told John.

Without a word, Sam went back to the impala and got in, while John went back to his car, leaving Calypso and Dean alone in the center. Calypso couldn't help but look from one car to the other, like she knew Dean was doing. Why was their family so dysfunctional?

"Terrific," she heard Dean say to the night air.

No kidding.

When they finally got to the vampire's nest, John finally decided to give a quick history lesson on the Colt.

"It's just a story, a legend really," John began. "Well I thought it was. Never really believed it until I read Daniel's letter. Back in 1835, when Halley's comet was overhead, the same night those men died at the Alamo, they say Samuel Colt made a gun. A special gun. He made it for a hunter, a man like us only on horseback. Story goes he made thirteen bullets, and this hunter used the gun a half dozen times before he disappeared, the gun along with him. And somehow Daniel got his hands on it. They say... they say this gun can kill anything."

"Kill anything like, supernatural anything?" Dean asked immediately.

Like... Calypso? A smile grew on her face before she hid it, not letting herself think about it. She knew she couldn't use it. The Winchesters had to kill the demon with it. But if there was an extra bullet when they were done with it...

"Like the demon," Sam realized.

"Yeah, the demon," John said. "Ever since I picked up its trail I've been looking for a way to destroy that thing. Find the gun - we may have it."

And use it sparingly and Calypso might have found her way out.

They entered the best through a window, John going first, then Sam, then Dean, and finally Calypso. By the time she got inside, John had disappeared, already looking for the gun.

Calypso looked around the room nervously. She hated vampires. Frankly, they scared her. But nobody could know that. Luckily, they were all sleeping in hammocks. It was dead silent.

Calypso followed as Sam and Dean made their way through the barn, looking for people to save. It was a possibility that no one was there, but they needed to look, anyway. There was a sudden clinking sound and Calypso jumped, but it was only an empty bottle that Dean had accidentally kicked. Luckily, no vampires were wakened.

"Dean," Sam whispered suddenly. "Callie."

Calypso turned towards Sam and saw a dark haired woman tied to a pole, most likely unconscious. When Sam began to untie the woman, they heard a noise.

"There's more," Dean stated, looking behind him.

Calypso accompanied him to a locked metal grid, containing more people, either sleeping or unconscious. Though the air felt like death, Calypso didn't think anyone was in there that was dead at the moment. There was a quiet clanging noise as Dean grabbed a metal hook to break the lock, but no vampire moved. _Heavy sleepers_, Calypso thought.

"Hey. Hey, hey, sh, I'm here to help you," Sam comforted the woman softly, who must have been waking up. Calypso looked up, puzzled. She wasn't sensing death from by the woman, but she wasn't sensing life either. But that was impossible. Unless… Her eyes widened. Vampire.

There was a sudden unearthly roar, and Calypso whirled around, her knife already out. The vampires were waking quickly now, as she looked around, but John was nowhere to be seen.

"Sam!" Dean yelled, immediately in search of his little brother.

"Run!" John ordered from out of sight.

They did, even Sam, calling for John as the vampires chased them. The three burst out the barn doors into the sunlight and ran up the slope to the cars, knowing sunlight wouldn't stop the vampires, but hopefully slowing them down. When they were out of sight, the three finally turned to look back.

"Dad?" Dean called. There was no response and a pit began to form in Calypso's stomach. "Dad!"

After a long pause, John finally came running up the slope. Calypso sighed in relief.

"Thank God," she whispered. She and the boys turned to leave now that everyone was there.

"They won't follow," John explained. "They'll wait till tonight. Once a vampire has your scent, it's for life."

"Yeah, and they get pretty mad, too," Calypso recalled.

"Well what the hell do we do now?" Dean asked, frustrated.

"You gotta find the nearest funeral home, that's what," John told him.

"What?" Calypso asked after a moment.

She didn't remember this...

Calypso and Dean were sent to get a bottle of dead man's blood which, according to John, was poisonous to vampires. It didn't kill them, but it made them very weak. Though it took longer than they thought, the two eventually got the blood.

"I still can't believe they caught you draining the guy," Calypso giggled in the passenger seat. She was excited to be riding shotgun for once.

"I still can't believe you saved my ass," Dean replied.

"I just told the truth," Calypso claimed.

"You told them I was 'mentally unstable!'" Dean quoted. "You said I forgot to take my meds today!"

"Like I said, the truth," Calypso restated with a light smile.

"Ha ha, very funny," Dean said sarcastically. They listened to Metallica for a moment.

"You call this music?" Calypso teased.

"What, like yours is any better?" Dean shot back with a grin. "What do you listen to, the Jonas Brothers?"

"No, I like some Coldplay, Carrie Underwood, Evanescence..." Calypso trailed off. "I really don't have a specific genre I stick to. I'm pretty flexible."

"Carrie Underwood?" Dean snickered.

"Yeah, you got a problem with that?" Calypso asked threateningly. Dean lifted his hands up in surrender. "Hands on the wheel!"

Laughing, Dean took control of the car again.

"God, I really can't believe we're facing vampires again," Calypso told him, out of the blue with a shake of her head.

"Yeah, brings me back to our first hunt together," Dean admitted.

"Remember how you handcuffed me in the car and made me face a vampire with only one hand?" Calypso asked. Dean winced.

"Again, really sorry about that," he apologized sheepishly.

"And how I tried to pickpocket you?" Calypso remembered with a smile.

"Yeah, and then I threatened to kill you," Dean recalled. "Bad moves on both our parts."

"Yeah, note to self, don't pickpocket Dean Winchester," Calypso laughed. Dean grinned.

"I'm still not over the vent," Dean admitted.

"That was terrifying," Calypso told him. "I had no clue how far down I was going. Honestly, hitting the vampire was just a stroke of luck." Dean laughed. "Running into you guys was a stroke of luck, too. I wonder where I'd be if I didn't."

"Well, Sam and I would be dead," Dean said confidently. "You would've been attacked by those vamps, but that's as far as we can get there."

Calypso smiled nostalgically. It was as though history was repeating itself through this case. Hopefully she wouldn't be crashing down any vents this time.

Calypso watched carefully from the trees as Dean pretended to fix the impala, baiting the vampires. Calypso had originally volunteered, but Dean immediately refused to let her touch his baby. It wasn't like she was gonna break it...

A female vampire emerged from the shadows and began speaking with Dean. As the woman backhanded him, another vampire appeared.

"Now?" Calypso asked John quietly, waiting for the signal to go. She wouldn't shoot out of fear that she wouldn't hit the vampires, or worse, that she'd accidentally hit Dean. That would be problematic. She left the crossbow to Sam and John instead.

"Wait," John commanded.

The vampire woman grabbed Dean's face and lifted him into the air. Dean grabbed the woman's wrist, but seemed to be conversing with her still, probably sarcastically knowing him. Then she lowered him down to her level and kissed him, still holding his face tightly. The other vampire grinned maliciously.

"Now," John ordered, shooting his crossbow, Sam doing the same immediately afterward. Both vampires were hit.

Calypso left the cover of the trees, holding her knife in her right hand, John and Sam next to her.

"It barely even stings," the vampire woman claimed as they drew closer.

"Give it time sweetheart," John told her. "That arrow's soaked in dead man's blood. It's like poison to you isn't it?"

The woman's expression of triumph quickly transformed into horror, and she swayed for a moment before losing consciousness.

"Load her up," John ordered. He gestured to the other vampire. "Calypso, you take care of this one."

"Okay," Calypso agreed. She cautiously approached the other vampire, the thing groggily sitting groggily on the ground. She looked at it for a second, tilting her head. "Why do you do this?" she asked, honestly confused. "No, really, I don't understand. There are other options, there have to be." The vampire stared at her, fear shining in its eyes. "You can choose what you do. Why would anyone choose this, killing innocent people? I mean, look at where that got you. And now, I have to kill you. But remember, you chose to die like this. You chose to be a monster."

She brought her knife down.

A campfire burned as they thought out the final stage of their plan. John handed Dean a bag and they moved from the impala where Sam patrolled with a machete, and Calypso was sitting down, twirling her knife in her hands.

"Toss this on the fire," John told Dean. "Saffron, skunk's cabbage and trillium. It'll block our scent and hers, until we're ready."

"Useful," Calypso commented.

Dean sniffed it and coughed.

"Stuff stinks!" he protested.

"That's the idea. Dust your clothes with the ashes, and you stand a chance of not being detected," John explained.

"You sure they'll come after her?" Sam asked. Fair question.

"Yeah," John said confidently. "Vampires mate for life. She means more to the leader than the gun. But the blood sickness is going to wear off soon, so you don't have a lot of time."

"A half hour oughta do it," Sam estimated. Calypso smiled. They were going to wipe out the rest of the nest, and free the people the vampires had captured while John got the colt.

"And then I want you out of the area as fast as you can," John told them.

"But..." Sam protested as Calypso raised her eyebrows.

"Well, Dad you can't take care of them all yourself," Dean pointed.

"I'll have her," John pointed out, talking about the vampire. "And the Colt."

"But after. We're gonna meet up, right?" Sam asked. "Use the gun together. Right?" There was a long pause and Calypso sighed in disappointment. "You're leaving again, aren't you. You still wanna go after the demon alone. You know, I don't get you. You can't treat us like this."

"Like what?" John asked aggressively. Oh no, it was happening again...

"Like children," Sam told him.

"You are my children. Calypso _is _still a child. I'm trying to keep you safe." John tried to explain.

"I'm not a child, I'm a teenager," Calypso grumbled under her breath, crossing her arms.

"Dad, all due respect but, uh, that's a bunch of crap," Dean said. Everyone took a step back. Even Calypso was surprised to hear him say that. She stood up cautiously.

"Excuse me?" John asked, stunned.

"You know what Sammy, Callie, and I have been hunting," Dean pointed out. Calypso nodded thoughtfully. "Hell, you sent us on a few hunting trips yourself. You can't be that worried about keeping us safe."

"It's not the same thing, Dean," John protested. How? It was exactly the same thing they did each day.

"Then what is it? Why do you want us out of the big fight?" Dean asked.

"This demon? It's a bad son of a bitch. I can't make the same moves if I'm worried about keeping you alive," John told him. Dean didn't take any of it.

"You mean you can't be as reckless," Dean summarized.

"Look... I don't expect to make it out of this fight in one piece," John confessed emotionally. Calypso looked away. "Your mother's death... it almost killed me. I can't watch my children die too. I won't."

"But what if you die?" Calypso asked him quietly. He looked over in surprise as she began to speak louder. "Do you think that's going to leave them in any better shape? Having a parent get killed and knowing you could've done something about it... They'd be just as damaged as you were with Mary. It's not something you ever heal from. So, I think Sam might be right on this one. We need to stick together."

Sam looked at her and nodded approvingly, though he didn't suspect she would say those things.

"We're stronger as a family, Dad. We just are. You know it," Dean said.

"We're running out of time," John told them stubbornly. "You do your job and you get out of the area. That's an order."

Calypso looked at him and narrowed his eyes, suddenly angry. She knew where Sam was coming from. She, for one, was not a soldier. She didn't obey orders. She did what she wanted, and if what she wanted was to go hunt with John and his boys, then god damn it, she was going to do it.

"Who says we have to obey orders?" she asked confidently. Sam and Dean looked at her, surprised.

"I do," John told her, stepping forwards and straightening his posture to look threateningly. But Calypso wasn't intimidated.

"Maybe I don't want to obey orders," Calypso said, her voice gradually rising. "Maybe I don't want to be bossed around. Maybe I want a say in what we're doing!"

"Maybe you should be quiet and do what you're told," John said. Calypso shook her head sadly.

"You know who else has told me that before?" Calypso asked, becoming softer, but no less confident. "My father. And I think you can guess what happened after he said it."

John looked her in the eye for a moment, fire clashing with fire, before he turned and went to his truck without a word.

Yeah, she thought so.

Sam, Dean, and Calypso cleaned up the vampires' nest as they were supposed to, but hurried. After they freed the people locked in the cage like room, they set off again to catch up with John.

They found him just as his car was stopped by the vampires. His plan seemed to be going fairly well as he brought the vampire woman out of his truck and offered her for the Colt. What seemed to be the main vampire placed the gun on the ground.

"Callie, why don't you have a crossbow?" Dean whispered. She looked over at him.

"I don't know how to use it," Calypso whispered back. "Couldn't aim if I tried."

Dean seemed to take this as an acceptable answer, and looked back at the scene unfolding before them. John was leaning forward to pick up the gun, dragging the vampire with him.

Then the vampire woman swung around and hit him. The Colt fell to the ground.

Calypso got up quickly and saw the brothers on both sides of her aim the crossbows as the main vampire backhanded John, knocking him into his car and shattering the window. The man fell onto the ground, unconscious. Calypso gasped, eyes wide and muscles tensed, and the Winchesters shot.

Without wasting any time, they sprinted out of the trees towards the vampires. Sam and Calypso moved towards the main one while Dean paused to shoot another vampire, then Calypso was distracted as one came out of the blue and swung at her. She dodged, then came back with her knife, beheading it, all in one fluid motion. She turned back to Sam only to see the main vampire in the process of wrapping his arm around her brother's throat.

"No!" she cried, jumping forward and slashing the vampires hand as she knocked Sam away. He stumbled a few steps away, safe, as Calypso felt a jab into her stomach. She doubled over, dropping her knife, and in that moment of weakness the vampire was able to put her in front of him, his arm instead around her neck. She almost laughed. She wasn't a very useful bargaining chip for him.

Dean rushed forward with a machete, but the arm tightened around her neck, making it hard to breathe.

"Don't!" the vampire warned. "I'll break her neck! Put the blade down!"

But Dean didn't stop, knowing his threat wouldn't work. Something in his eyes must have tipped the thing off.

"I'll turn her!" he changed his plan. Calypso tilted her head.

"What's up with you vamps desperately wanting me to be one the undead?" Calypso wondered, thinking back to her first hunt. A tightening of the vampires arm silenced her, and also cut off her air supply completely.

When Dean didn't put the blade on the ground, the vampire brought its bleeding hand towards her mouth. The one she had cut when she had freed Sam. God, she was so stupid! Calypso cringed away, eyesight beginning to become blurry.

Dean dropped the machete immediately and it fell to the ground. Sam stood with him, both watching Calypso's face turn blue, unable to do anything about it.

"You people," the vampire hissed, its anger making its muscles tighten of their own accord. Black dots were beginning to blanket Calypso's vision. "Why can't you leave us alone? We have as much right to live as you do. Just as much as this little girl!" He shook her and a whimper came from her throat. "What if I turned her? Would you kill her?" Calypso shuddered, knowing they wouldn't be able to. "Don't worry," the vampire told her, whispering loudly by her ear. His breath was hot on her neck. "It won't hurt."

Calypso struggled weakly, about to lose consciousness, as the hand got closer to her face, Sam and Dean watching helplessly. The last time this had happened, Calypso had been able to protect herself. She had tricked the vampire. She couldn't this time.

"It won't hurt her, at least," John said from behind them. The vampire turned around with his arm still wrapped around Calypso's neck, and they both saw John standing, pointing the Colt at the vampire. A gunshot went off as John pulled the trigger. Calypso saw the path of the bullet in the air and knew it hit home, right between the eyes of the monster.

The thing let go of Calypso immediately, and she crumpled into someone's arms as she went limp. They were warm and comforting, the exact opposite of the vampire's. She was pulled a few steps away, then supported into a standing position as the vampire died.

A sigil first appeared where the bullet hit, and the thing stumbled. Calypso watched through her half closed eyes, transfixed, as a flash of light briefly reflected his skeleton. He fell to his knees.

"Luther!" the vampire woman from before screamed in horror.

There was another flash of light through Luther, and Calypso sensed his death then. The dead vampire slumped to the ground.

The woman started towards John, but another vampire grabbed her and pulled her to their car. They took off, wheels screeching.

"Callie, you okay?" Dean asked from next to her. She looked over, dazed. He stood next to Sam, the one holding her up. They both looked at her, concerned. She nodded, silently.

"I can stand," Calypso insisted, her voice softer than usual. Sam cautiously removed his arms, and she promptly fell again. This time it was Dean catching her.

"Okay, I don't think we're ready for that yet," he said, helping her over to the car, Sam following close behind.

"Maybe not," she agreed, too tired to argue. John came over, the gun still in his hands. "Thanks," she told him. He shrugged nonchalantly.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"I'm getting there," she claimed.

He nodded.

"Let's head back to the motel," John suggested. "Get you somewhere to lay down."

"That sounds good," Calypso agreed. The Winchesters helped her into the car, despite her protests that she could buckle her own seatbelt. Sam sat next to her while Dean drove back.

"You didn't have to sacrifice yourself, you know," Sam told her. "I would've been fine."

"Luther would've killed you," she disagreed. "It's always better that the bad guy has someone who can't die. That way they don't have leverage against the other side."

"But he did have leverage," Dean protested. "He was gonna turn you."

"There's no guarantee that it would've worked," Calypso told him dismissively.

"There's no guarantee that it wouldn't have worked," Sam pointed out. She shrugged.

"Better me a vampire than you dead," she told him.

"Don't say that," Sam told her. Calypso looked at him, a hint of a smile on her face. She was still not used to people needing her. She hadn't been needed in a very long time. She'd forgotten how it felt.

Back at the motel room, the boys were packing while Calypso laid down on the bed. She was feeling a lot better, much less light headed. Of course, she knew she would be dizzy for a few more hours, but it was bearable.

John entered the room.

"So boys, and girl," he said to get their attention. Calypso sat up as all three of them turned to face him.

"Yes sir," Sam replied, as if he was responding to a higher ranked officer in the military.

"You ignored a direct order back there," John told them. Calypso shrugged. "Could've gotten yourselves killed, or turned. Almost did."

"Yes sir."

"Yeah but we saved your ass," Dean pointed out. Calypso smiled and Sam looked sideways at Dean nervously. John looked steadily at his son, who swallowed.

"You're right," he agreed. Calypso was taken aback.

"I am?" Dean asked, stunned.

"It scares the hell out of me," John explained. "You three are all I've got. But I guess we are stronger as a family. So...we go after this damn thing. Together."

Calypso smiled and knew what to say in unison with Sam and Dean.

"Yes sir."


	12. Chapter 12

Calypso slept.

She didn't know why or how, but she did, an entire night. The Winchesters let her take a bed, seeing as she had almost been strangled to unconsciousness a few hours earlier, and as they were talking, Calypso had nodded off. She had never slept in a bed that comfortable. She had never felt so safe before in her life. But the Winchesters still didn't protect her from the nightmares.

"You thought I had forgotten about you," the red eyed man's voice echoed around the constricting dark space. Calypso trembled, but didn't dare look around in fear of what she might find. "You thought I would let you go."

"I-"

"Shut up!" the voice yelled. Calypso fell silent with a whimper. "I never let you off easy. I never let you go." The victorious smile was clear in his voice. "I've been keeping track of everything you've done. I must say, I expected more." There was breath on the back of her neck and she whimpered again. "That was cowardice, running away. You know that, right? You are a coward, like your mother. And you're going to lose, just as she did."

There was a laugh, and Calypso was falling towards a red light, getting brighter and brighter, consuming her vision, until-

"Callie," a different voice said urgently. "Wake up!"

Calypso sat straight up in the bed with a gasp, clutching the blankets to her chest. Her eyes darted around the room in a panic, seeing John, asleep on the other bed, and Sam asleep on the floor next to it. She turned to her left to find Dean, a terrified expression plastered on her face.

"Hey, it's okay," he told her softly. "It was just a dream."

"But it was so real," Calypso gasped, still having trouble breathing.

"They all do," Dean agreed. "Do you want to talk about it?" Calypso quickly shook her head. "Okay."

It was quiet.

"This is why I don't sleep," Calypso explained softly. "This always happens." She looked gratefully at Dean. "Except nobody's ever there to snap me out of it."

"Yeah, well, you were moving around and talking," Dean informed her. "I figured I better wake you up."

Calypso frowned.

"I usually don't move or cry out when I'm dreaming," she told him. "That's weird. Was I saying anything?"

"Yeah, actually," Dean recalled. "You were muttering, it was hard to make out, but I think it was, 'He's coming for me.'"

The next morning John showed them everything he had learned about the demon from tracking it. The walls were covered with information regarding to the thing, from pictures to weather charts, as was the desk that John sat at, the Colt in front of him. Sam leaned over the counter as Dean paced. Calypso simply stood still, utterly exhausted.

"So this is it," John explained. This is everything I know. Look, our whole lives we been searching for this demon right? Not a trace, just... nothing. Until about a year ago. For the first time I picked up a trail."

"And that's when you took off," Dean guessed.

"Yeah. That's right," John answered. "The demon must have come out of hiding, or hibernation."

"All right so what's this trail you found?" Dean asked.

"It starts in Arizona, then New Jersey, California," John explained. "Houses burned down to the ground. It's going after families, just like it went after us."

"Families with infants?" Sam wondered.

"Yeah. The night of the kid's six-month birthday," John informed them. Calypso looked away. So Sam was only six months old that night? He never even knew his mother.

"I was six months old that night?" Sam asked.

"Exactly six months."

"So basically, this demon is going after these kids for some reason," Sam stated. "The same way it came for me? So Mom's death... Jessica. It's all because of me?"

"We don't know that, Sam," Dean said quickly.

"Oh really? Cause I'd say we're pretty damn sure Dean," Sam told his brother angrily.

"You don't know anything for sure, now," Calypso reminded him. "It could have been because of something completely unrelated to your family. Now, calm down. That's enough."

Everyone took a moment to collect themselves, then continued the conversation.

"So why's he doing it? What does he want?" Sam asked.

"Look I wish I had more answers, I do," John told his sons. "I've always been one step behind it. Look, I've never gotten there in time to save..." He trailed off and looked down, unhappy.

"So, how do we find it?" Calypso asked.

"There's signs. It took me a while to see the pattern but it's there in the days before these fires signs crop up in an area," John explained. "Cattle deaths, temperature fluctuations, electrical storms. And then I went back and checked... and..."

"These things happened in Lawrence," Dean guessed. John nodded.

"A week before your mother died. And in Palo Alto... before Jessica. And these signs, they're starting again," he said.

"Where?"

"Salvation, Iowa."

They followed John's truck to the town. When the two vehicles hit a misty patch of road, John unexpectedly pulled off to the side. The impala followed, and everyone sprang out of their cars as soon as they reached the edge of the road.

"God damn it!" John exclaimed, slamming the door as he got out of the car.

"What is it?" Dean asked.

"Son of a bitch," John said, not answering.

"What is it!" Dean asked more urgently.

"I just got a call from Caleb," John told them. Calypso still didn't know who this Caleb guy was. She should probably ask soon…

"Is he okay?" Dean inquired.

"He's fine," he assured them. "Jim Murphy's dead."

Who?

"Pastor Jim? How?" Sam demanded.

"His throat was slashed. He bled out," John described. "Caleb said they found traces of sulfur at Jim's place."

"A demon," Calypso knew. John nodded.

"The Demon?" Dean wondered.

"I don't know. Could be he just got careless, he slipped up," John pointed out. "Maybe the demon knows we're getting close."

"What do we do?" Dean asked.

"Now we act like every second counts. There's three hospitals and a health center in this county. We split up, cover more ground," John ordered. "I want records. I want a list of every infant that's going to be six months old in the next week."

"Dad, that could be dozens of kids," Sam protested. "How do we know which one's the right one?"

"We check 'em all that's how. You got any better ideas?"

"No sir."

John nodded at them and everyone turned back to their cars. They paused and Dean turned back, seeing John stay at his truck, mourning his friend.

"Dad?"

"Yeah," John said, upset. "It's Jim. You know, I can't..." His face hardened. "This ends, now. I'm ending it. I don't care what it takes." 

Calypso was dropped off at a hospital with a fake ID, Sam and Dean claiming she would be fine on her own. She didn't think so, but didn't protest, even when she almost tripped out of the car. Though nervous, she somehow made it through, looking at enough files to make her head spin. Then Sam and Dean picked her up, Sam telling of a new vision. John wasn't going to be happy...

And he wasn't.

"A vision," John said flatly, sitting at the edge of the bed. Dean was sitting at the edge of the other, while Sam sat at the table, Calypso standing next to him protectively.

"Yes. I saw the demon burning a woman on the ceiling," Sam explained slowly and painfully.

"And you think this is going to happen to this woman you met because..." John asked, trailing off so that Sam could answer.

"Because these things happen exactly the way I see them," Sam told him. Calypso looked at John, a challenge in her eyes. He wasn't going to make Sam feel bad about his visions. He handled Calypso's powers pretty well, and she would make him handle Sam's even better.

"It started out as nightmares. Then it started happening while he was awake," Dean informed John. He rose and crossed the counter behind Sam to get more coffee.

"Yeah," Sam agreed, wincing. "It's like the closer I get to anything to do with the demon the stronger the visions get."

"All right. When were you going to tell me about this?" John asked. So he wasn't upset about Sam's powers, but at the failure to tell him about them. Looking back, Calypso realized they had tried. John just never answered the phone.

Sam and Dean stopped and turned to look at John.

"We didn't know what it meant," Dean defended.

"All right, something like this starts happening to your brother, you pick up the phone and you call me," John ordered. "It's one thing if it's someone you thought I didn't know, but this is Sam. You should've called me."

Calypso watched as Dean dumped the coffee jug and cup back on the counter angrily and strode back over to John.

"Call you? Are you kidding me? Dad, I called you from Lawrence all right?" Dean told his father with a quiet anger. "Sam called you when I was dying. I mean, getting you on the phone? I got a better chance of winning the lottery."

Calypso looked at Dean in shock. Speaking like that to her father would've gotten her a serious beating. Oh, Dean was asking for it.

"You're right," John agreed reluctantly. "Although I'm not too crazy about this new tone of yours, you're right. I'm sorry."

Calypso almost let her mouth fall open in shock before realizing that this was John Winchester. He was much more forgiving than her father.

"Look guys, visions or no visions, fact is, we know the demon is coming tonight," Sam pointed out. "And this family's gonna go through the same hell we went through."

Calypso shook her head.

"No," she disagreed. "Not now that we know about it."

Sam's phone rang out of the blue and he picked it up.

"Hello?" he answered. Though nobody but Sam could hear it, a female voice replied.

"Sam?"

"Who is this?" he asked. Calypso frowned. That question was never good.

"Think real hard it will come to you."

There was a moment.

"Meg."

Calypso gasped.

"But she's dead!" she protested as both John and Dean turned to Sam, the conversation holding their attention. "She fell out a window!"

"Last time I saw you, you fell out of a window," Sam told Meg.

"Yeah, no thanks to you. That really hurt my feelings by the way."

"Just your feelings? That was a seven story drop."

"Lemme speak to your Dad."

Sam looked at John. _What?_ Calypso wanted to ask. What was going on?

"My Dad," Sam said hesitantly. "I don't know where my Dad is."

"It's time for the grown ups to talk, Sam, let me speak to him now."

Sam hesitated for a moment before handing the phone to John.

"This is John," the man answered.

"Howdy John. I'm Meg. I'm a friend of your boys. I'm also the one who watched Jim Murphy choke on his own blood... still there John-boy?"

"I'm here."

Calypso thought John sounded angry. Why?

"Well that was yesterday. Today I'm in Lincoln. Visiting another old friend of yours. He wants to say hi..."

Another voice came on the phone, very familiar to John.

"John, whatever you do don't give-"

The phone must have been pulled away, because the man was cut off without extra noise.

"Caleb?" John asked, worried. Calypso recognized the name, but it was clear the Winchesters cared about him, as they were all on alert as soon as the name was said. "You listen to me. He's got nothing to do with anything. You let him go."

"We know you have the colt John."

"I don't know what you're talking about," John claimed. Calypso looked at him, confused.

"Oh, okay. Well listen to this."

There was the sound of the man from before gasping, seeming to be drowning in his own blood. His throat must have been slit.

"Caleb. Caleb!" John yelled. Calypso looked away and swallowed. From that tone, she knew Caleb was gone.

"You hear that? That's the sound of your friend dying," Meg told him silkily. "Now let's try this again. We know you have the gun John, word travels fast. So as far as we're concerned you just declared war. And this is what war looks like. It has casualties."

"I'm gonna kill you, you know that?" John said, enraged.

"Oh John please, mind your blood pressure. So this is the thing. We're going to keep doing what we're doing. And your friends, anyone who has ever helped you, gave you shelter, anyone you ever loved. They'll all die unless you give us that gun."

John was quiet, thinking. Calypso and the boys were gathered close by his side.

"I'm waiting Johnny, better answer before the buzzer," Meg said.

"Okay," John suddenly agreed. Okay what? Calypso wondered. What did he agree to?

"Sorry? I didn't quite get that."

"I said okay, I'll bring you the colt."

"No!" Calypso whispered so quietly that nobody else could hear her, not even Sam who was right next to her.

"There's a warehouse in Lincoln, on the corner of Wabash and Lake. You're gonna meet me there."

"It's gonna take me about a day's drive to get there," John protested.

"Meet me there at midnight tonight."

"That's impossible. I can't get there in time and I can't just carry a gun on the plane." John pointed out.

"Oh. Well I guess your friends die don't they. If you do decide to make it, come alone." There was a pause as she seemed to reconsider. "Actually, bring little Calypso with you. I'm dying to meet her again."

"No," John replied instantly. Calypso tilted her head, wondering what was going on now. "She has nothing to do with this."

She looked at John confused. Were that talking about her? Maybe it was somebody else...

"Oh, John, she has everything to do with this," Meg told him. "But it's your choice. Either you both come with the Colt, or your friends die. I'll be waiting."

John hung up slowly, the blood draining from his face.

"What?" Calypso asked, the first to break the silence. "What happened? What did she want?"

"She wants the Colt," John explained. "And... She wants me to bring you along." He looked at Calypso who nodded, accepting her fate.

"No!" Sam and Dean protested at the same time.

"Or else what?" Calypso asked quietly.

"Or else all our friends die. I can't let that-"

"I'll do it," she agreed without hesitation. As Sam and Dean protested on either side of her, she yelled to make them shut up. "I'm not worth all those lives, okay! Anyway, I won't die. I can't."

"That isn't always a good thing," John pointed out quietly. "She wants me to take you with me so she can kidnap you and-"

"What? Torture me? Experiment on me?" Calypso asked. She laughed bitterly. "Do you think I don't know that? All I'm saying is that it's better if I get tortured than if so many other people are killed. I've gotten through it before."

"That was when you were six!" Dean yelled. "You aren't the same as then!"

"The last time wasn't when I was six, Dean," Calypso recalled. "Remember Mason? That was torture. And there were other times before that, too."

"No, okay?" Dean told her. "Just no."

"If I don't go, people are going to die, Dean, don't you understand!" Calypso yelled. He looked away.

"Come on Sam, back me up here," Dean begged. Sam looked at Dean sadly.

"I don't like this any more than you do, but it's not our decision," Sam said quietly, not able to look his brother in the eye.

"Dad?" Dean pleaded.

John shook his head.

"It's Calypso's choice. If we're lucky, we might both be able to escape."

Of course, Calypso was never lucky. She looked at Dean sadly.

"I'm only good at killing," she told him quietly. "At least this way I can save a few people, too."

"But Callie-"

"You have to let me do this, Dean," she said. "Please."

"We can't lose you."

"You have to."

They looked at each other for a moment before Dean looked away in defeat.

"But we can't lose the Colt, either," Dean hung onto another point. "The demon's coming tonight. We can't just hand it over."

"Who said anything about handing it over? Look, besides us and a couple of vampires no one's really seen the gun, no one knows what it looks like," John pointed out. "I'll take a different gun, buy you and Sam some time."

"You want us to stay here and kill this demon by ourselves?" Sam asked.

"No Sam. I want to stop losing people we love," John told him emotionally. "I want you to go to school, I want Dean to have a home. I want Calypso to be loved. I want... I want Mary alive. It's just... I just want this to be over."

Calypso looked down, tears forming in her eyes. She quickly blinked them away, disgusted at herself for showing emotion. She wouldn't make it through the torture if she wore her heart on her sleeve.

Of course, she also figured she wouldn't make it through at all. 

They packed up on a muddy back road so they wouldn't be seen. John's plan involved a fake gun that looked similar to the Colt, which Dean fetched. He came back as Sam, Calypso, and John were checking their weapons at the back of his truck.

"You get it?" John asked as his son emerged from the car. Dean pulled a brown paper bag out of his pocket and handed it to John, who pulled out an antique gun.

"You know this is a trap don't you. That's why Meg wants you to come with only Callie?" Dean asked.

"I can handle her, keep her from getting Calypso," John told his son confidently. Calypso looked over at him nervously. She doubted he'd keep her safe. It was her job to keep him safe. She was the one who couldn't die. "I got a whole arsenal loaded. Holy water, Mandaic amulets-"

"Dad..." Dean trailed off.

"What?" John asked.

"Promise me something."

"What's that?"

"This thing goes south just... get the hell out. Don't get yourself killed, all right? You're no good to us dead." Dean turned to Calypso. "Let Dad protect you. We aren't losing you either, no matter what."

"You too," Calypso told him, no trace of fear in her voice.

There was a long pause as John turned to his boys.

"All right listen to me. They made the bullets special for this colt. There's only four of them left. Without them this gun is useless. You make every shot count."

"Yes sir," Sam agreed.

"Been waiting a long time for this fight," John admitted. "Now it's here I'm not gonna be in it. It's up to you boys now. It's your fight, you finish this. You finish what I started. Understand?"

He handed the Colt to Dean.

"We'll see you soon, both of you," Sam told them confidently. Calypso smiled at him and Dean.

"You can bet on it," Calypso agreed.

"I'll see you later," John told his boys.

Calypso walked to the passenger side door, and looked back for a moment. She shot Sam and Dean a smile and waved before she got into the truck. Little did she know that that smile was the last Sam and Dean would see of her for a very long time. 

Most of the ride was in silence, both Calypso and John tense. When they got to the warehouse, they made preparations to the building, such as turning its store of water into holy water, one of the only things that can hurt a demon. When they finally entered the warehouse, Meg stood alone in the middle of the room. Calypso and John stood a few feet away from her.

"John, you made it," Meg told him, sounding poisonously sweet. "Too bad really, I was hoping to kill more of your friends."

"Sorry to disappoint," John said.

"And Calypso! Long time, no see!" Meg exclaimed. "So glad you decided to come." Calypso stood silently. "Not very chatty today, are you?" She looked back at John. "You know, I can see where you boys get their good looks. Though I must admit, considering what they say about you I thought you'd be... taller."

John copied what Calypso had done and stayed silent.

"You wanna get down to business? Fine. Why don't you just hand over the gun," Meg suggested.

"If I give you the gun how do I get out of here?" John asked.

"If you're as good as they say you are I'm sure you'll figure something out."

"Maybe I'll just shoot you."

"You wanna shoot me, baby? Go ahead. There's more where I came from."

Another demon, a man, walked out of the shadows and stood next to Meg. Calypso silently panicked, though outwardly stayed completely still. How were they supposed to get out of this one? They couldn't take down two demons!

"Who's that?" Calypso wondered.

"He's not nearly as much fun as I am I can tell you that." She looked over at John. "So I suggest you give us the gun." Calypso split her glare between both demons, then focused on Meg once again. "Now!"

With that prompting, John handed the gun over, butt first. She immediately began checking it out.

"This is the colt?" she confirmed. John nodded and Meg handed the gun over to the demon. "What do you think?"

Calypso held her breath as the other demon inspected it. He pointed the Colt at the ceiling and cocked it...

And shot Meg in the chest.

Meg staggered back and Calypso gasped. Now they would know it wasn't the real Colt. They were screwed.

"You shot me!" Meg yelled, grabbing the wound. "I can't believe you just shot me!"

"It's a fake!" the demon declared, looking at John.

He threw the gun away and Meg also turned to look at John. Calypso stepped in front of him defensively. She wasn't going to let them hurt him. Not on her watch.

"You're dead John. Your boys are dead," Meg hissed.

"I've never used the gun," John claimed, he and Calypso backing away slowly. "How could I know it wouldn't work?"

"I'm so not in the mood for this," Meg told him, sounding like a bratty teenager, in Calypso's opinion. She would know what that's like. "I've just been shot!"

"Well, then I guess you're lucky the gun wasn't real," John said.

"That's funny, John. We're going to strip the skin from your bones but that was funny."

"You're not gonna touch him," Calypso told her fiercely.

Meg was briefly distracted by the noise of gas escaping, and John wrapped his hand around Calypso's wrist and tugged her back into another room, locking the door. She followed him down a hatch in the floor. They ended up in the hallway they had been in earlier. It was dark and lined with pipes. Perfect. Meg and the other demon followed, but John had already reached the other end and turned on a tap. Calypso smirked. Holy water began gushing over the floor as the demons paused. The male demon, suddenly in front of Meg, continued. He took a few steps and stopped as his feet began to steam. He jumped backwards, yelling.

"Holy water," Calypso called over the noise. She laughed, sounding not quite sane. "Suck it, bitches!"

She didn't wait around and took off after John around the corner.

It didn't take them long to reach the truck, but upon arrival Calypso realized all the tires were slashed.

"Damn it," John cursed, realizing the same thing.

"This way," Calypso pointed, running around the side of the building.

"Stay behind me," John ordered. Calypso nodded, breathless from fear. Just because she volunteered to go, didn't mean that she wanted to be caught and tortured. It was just better than the alternative.

It turned out that the way they chose was a dead end. Calypso and John stopped, gasping for breath.

John pushed Calypso into the shadows and she brought out her cell phone, dialing Dean's phone number. John was trying Sam's, but before he could enter the number, he was suddenly flung against the wall. Calypso bit back a scream and fumbled with Dean's phone number as John groaned in pain, and entered it in. She was sent to voicemail.

That was when the male demon appeared and John began to slide up the wall. Calypso's eyes began to fill with tears as the demon realized she wasn't there. He looked around and spied her in the corner, her phone up to her ear. She closed her eyes as the phone signaled that she should start speaking.

"Thank you," Calypso said into the phone, clearly and calmly. "For everything."

That's when the demon pulled the phone from her hand and flung Calypso onto the wall. She released a small sound of pain as she hit the hard rock. He crushed the phone into a ball and dropped onto the ground. Calypso almost cried out, seeing her last connection to her old life disappear, but she kept quiet, knowing that she couldn't afford to show emotion.

"Congratulations, bastard," Calypso told him, hatred thick on her voice. "You win." 

Back in the motel room, Dean paced with his phone by his ear as Sam sat on the bed.

"Thank you," Calypso's chillingly calm voice repeated again. "For everything."

"Got anything new this time?" Sam asked. Dean shook his head and dialed his father, but the man didn't pick up.

"Come on Dad, answer your phone, damn it," Dean said, frustrated. He hung up. "What happened? I mean, Callie sounded as if she wasn't gonna see us again, and now she and Dad aren't answering their phones? Why won't they answer, goddammit!"

Sam didn't reply, but stared at the wall, thinking over the day's events. He and Dean had succeeded in saving the family, but failed in killing the demon. It had still been inside the house as it burned down, but Dean wouldn't let Sam go back in, saying it was suicide. Sam didn't understand why. If Dean had let him, he could've killed the demon. This would all be over.

"You hear me?" Dean asked his brother. "Something's wrong."

"If you had just let me go in there, I could've ended all this," Sam pointed out quietly.

"Sam, the only thing you would have ended was your life," Dean told him.

"You don't know that," Sam disagreed.

"So what, you're just willing to sacrifice yourself, is that it?" Dean asked, walking towards the bed. Sam stood up challengingly.

"Yeah. Yeah you're damn right I am," Sam told his brother.

"Well that's not going to happen, not as long as I'm around," Dean said.

"What the hell are you talking about Dean, we've been searching for this demon our whole lives," Sam argued. "It's the only thing we've ever cared about."

"Sam I wanna waste it," Dean tried to convince his brother. "I do. Okay? But it's not worth dying over."

"What?" Sam asked, stunned.

"I mean it," Dean told him. "If hunting this demon means getting yourself killed then I hope we never find the damn thing."

"That thing killed Jess," Sam protested. "That thing killed Mom."

"You said yourself once, that no matter what we do, they're gone, and they're never coming back," Dean recalled.

Sam lost it at this comment and grabbed Dean, shoving him hard against the wall

"Don't you say that, not you!" Sam exclaimed, angry and upset. "Not after all this. Don't you say that."

"Sam look," Dean began quietly. "The four of us... that's all we have... and it's all I have. Sometimes I feel like I'm barely holding it together man... and without you, Callie, or Dad..."

"Dad and Callie," Sam remembered, becoming even more upset. He let go and turned away, walking across the room. Dean stayed where he was, taking deep breaths. "They should have called by now," Sam realized, tears in his eyes. "Try them again."

Dean raised his phone and called his father once more. After a moment, someone picked up.

"You boys really screwed up this time," Meg's silky voice told Dean through the phone. Dean paused for a moment from shock.

"Where are they?" Dean asked angrily. Sam looked up, knowing something was wrong.

"You're never going to see your father or precious sister again."


	13. Chapter 13

Calypso woke with a sour taste in her mouth and an ache coming from her entire body. What had happened? The last thing she could remember was being held up against the wall, and a sharp pain in her head. Then she woke up... Wherever she was now.

Looking around in the dark, she could barely make out odd shapes that seemed to be moving. Or it could have been her imagination. There was a sudden warmth on her face, something's breath, and Calypso jerked away. She didn't move more than an inch before the chains stopped her.

"Fascinating," an unfamiliar voice said from her right. "This is Calypso?"

"Yes," another answered, this one seeming to be right in front of her.

"It's a shame we can't keep her for long," the first voice told the other with a sigh. "I'd love to know what she is... What she can do." Calypso tried to speak, but nothing came out. It was as if she was gagged, without the cloth. "Oh well. Drug her. We'll move her to the final location as soon as she's sedated." The hand was back on her face, tilting her chin up. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Calypso Daemgelus. We'll see each other again soon."

There was a sudden jab into her arm, an injection. Nothing changed at first, though Calypso felt the heavy liquid circulating through her veins. Then it began to take effect. The feeling started in her head, as it slowly became heavier and heavier until she was shaking from the effort it took to keep it up. Her eyelids slid shut of their own accord. Exhaustion quickly took over the rest of her body, and she knew she couldn't fight it anymore.

Calypso went limp.

In the meantime, the Winchester boys were trying to find out where Calypso and their father were. Neither were handling the situation very well. Sam was developing an obsession with killing the demon, while Dean was becoming overly aggressive and violent. They decided to visit a friend of theirs named Bobby Singer for help, and captured Meg.

The demon revealed that John and Calypso were in a building in Jefferson City, Missouri, but claimed not to know anything else. They exorcized the demon from the girl's body, with the knowledge that she would die from the wounds that had been inflicted on her while she had been possessed. As she died, the then human Meg told the brothers that the demon was telling the truth, but it wanted them to try to rescue their family. She also added that they were by the river, then simply said, "sunrise," before she died.

The Winchesters left and searched by the river in Jefferson City, finding an apartment building called Sunrise. They figured this was the building Meg was talking about, and came up with a plan to search it.

Calypso wasn't unconscious. She never had been. What they injected her with didn't knock her out. Instead it slowed down her entire body at an extreme level, enough to keep her awake, but sedated. She figured it was because they knew she could contact Sam and Dean if she fell asleep or was knocked unconscious.

But she couldn't think of anything like that at the time. Calypso couldn't process what was going on around her and everything was moving too quickly for her to see. It was all blurry. It made her nauseous. She was forgetting why she was there. She was forgetting why there was a pit in her stomach, or a needle still in her arm.

There was a sudden shrill beeping noise and Calypso whimpered, not knowing what it was. Where was it coming from? Why was it so loud? It continued, making Calypso's sluggish brain want to explode. She saw a blur of movement in the left side of her vision and tugged at whatever was keeping her attached to the wall, not comprehending why there was a sharp pain in her arm that made her cry out.

She wasn't comprehending that the noise was the start of Sam and Dean's plan to rescue her and John.

Sam and Dean found the apartment using the EMF detector, which read high by the door that Calypso and John were hidden behind. They were dressed as firemen, the only way they could think of getting inside the building to go along with their plan of pulling the fire alarm. Dean banged on the door.

"This is the fire department," Dean called through the door. "We need you to evacuate."

They heard the clicking of latches as someone, or rather something, unlocked the door, and the boys immediately shoved it open. The possessed woman who unlocked the door was thrown backwards as Sam and Dean came through. They sprayed both her and the man with water from their tanks, burning the couple. Holy water. Dean punched the man and shoved him into a closet, then shut the door for a moment.

"Come on!" he told Sam. Sam grabbed the demon woman off the table she fell on top of it and pushed her towards the closet. Dean opened it just long enough for the woman to get inside then shut against the door and leaned on it as it lurched. The demons inside were banging on it, trying desperately to get out. "Hurry up!"

Sam grabbed a canister of salt from his duffle bag and ran a line of salt around the closet door. As soon as he finished it, the pounding stopped. The boys took off their fireman gear quickly, and moved to the bedroom door. Exchanging a glance, they slowly opened it.

They held their breath as they saw John tied to the bed, either asleep or... They didn't want to consider the other option. There was a whimper from the right side of the room and the two boys quickly turned to look.

It was Calypso, tied to the wall, stirring feebly. Her head faced the ground as if there was a weight attached to it and her hands were clenched into fists. She didn't look like herself. Her skin was paler than usual, with an odd bluish tint to it, and her feet were bare. She wasn't wearing her signature purple shirt and black leather jacket, either, but a gray T-shirt and sweatpants. Her hair was a mess of tangles and her arms were showing for once, displaying horizontal scars, old and new. Though it wasn't the time to be thinking of it, the Winchesters were disappointed. They thought she had stopped after the shapeshifter. They should have watched out for her more.

It was Sam who noticed the needle in her arm, connected to a pack of blue liquid, like an IV.

"Dean," he said quietly, pointing to her arm.

It was clear that Calypso hadn't been staying still the entire time the needle was in her arm. The area around it was irritated and bloody.

Sam went over to her cautiously. Her head tilted up slightly and she whimpered again, struggling weakly.

"Hey, it's me, it's Sam," he told her slowly and comfortingly, reaching out to her arm. "This might hurt for a second."

He pulled the needle from her arm.

Calypso felt slightly better instantaneously. She could hear now, and her vision wasn't as blurry as before. However, she still couldn't focus fully, and felt on the verge of unconsciousness. She was very weak.

"Sam?" Calypso croaked, seeing the blurry outline of his face.

"Hey, Callie," Sam said softly as Dean came over. His voice was slightly distorted, as if he was speaking underwater. "How are you feeling?"

"Like... crap," she told him weakly, her words slurring a bit. "They... drugged... me."

"Hang on, we'll get you down from there," Dean said, pulling out what looked to Calypso as a flash of silver, but she knew it was a knife.

"Wait," Sam protested. He looked at Calypso, but she couldn't make out the expression on his face. "Sorry, Callie, but we have to make sure you're not possessed." She nodded weakly.

"Are you nuts?" Dean asked, frustrated.

"Just in case!" Sam explained.

There was a sudden coolness on her arm as Sam used the holy water for two purposes, to make sure she wasn't possessed and to wash the blood off her arm.

As far as Calypso could tell, she wasn't steaming.

"Okay, go ahead," Sam told his brother.

Dean quickly cut through the ropes connecting Calypso to the wall. She couldn't support herself without the ropes keeping her up, and promptly collapsed against Dean.

"Sorry," she apologized, doing her best to stand up, but failing. Dean helped support her a bit.

"Is Dad okay?" Dean asked.

"He's... Alive," Calypso replied with a slow nod.

"Is he possessed?"

"I don't... Know."

Sam was one step ahead of Dean, and sprinkled the holy water on him, too. It had no effect, but John began to moan and come around.

"Sam?" he asked, able to speak much more easily and clearly than Calypso could, even if it was quiet. "Why are you splashing water on me?"

"Dad, are you okay?" Dean asked, bringing Calypso over to the bed.

"They've been drugging me. Not as much as Callie, though. Is she okay?" he asked. Calypso frowned, trying to think. Had he ever called her Callie before? Maybe it was the drug.

"She's right here," Dean told him. "She'll be okay."

"Where's the Colt?" John wondered next.

"Don't worry, Dad, it's safe," Sam answered. He was handed Calypso as Dean moved closer to the bed.

"Good boys," John muttered as Dean cut him free. "Good boys."

Sam made Calypso sit on the bed as he helped Dean get John on his feet, then came back and helped her up. They began to leave the room, heading towards the door, Dean supporting John and Sam helping Calypso, when the front door suddenly burst open. Two men came in, one a firefighter and the other a resident of the building, both possessed by demons.

"Go! Go!" Sam yelled.

"Back!" Dean ordered at the same time. "Back!"

Calypso tried to move back with Sam, but stumbled and fell into him. Sam just lifted her up off floor and carried her back into the bedroom in response.

Dean locked the door behind them, but there was a crack and an axe came through it.

"Here's Johnny," Calypso muttered to herself, her mind still too slow to understand she was in danger.

Sam put her down and quickly ran a line of salt at the door as Dean and John exited through the window onto the fire escape.

"Sam, let's go!" Dean called.

Sam tossed him the duffle bag then picked Calypso up again and went through the window. He turned back again and put a salt along the window sill with a free hand.

He looked over at the ladder.

"Can you get down that?" Sam asked quickly.

Calypso looked, trying to make out the ladder. No, she couldn't make it down that, but she could try.

"Yeah," she lied. "I'll go... after you."

Sam nodded and started down the ladder. When Calypso figured he was far enough down, she took a deep breath. This wouldn't end well.

She slipped on the first rung after her hand refused to close around it, and fell down… Down…

For a moment she was flying. For a moment she was weightless, free. She smiled, eyes closed and arms outstretched. It was relaxing. The wind caressed her face and blew her matted hair back. She felt like a bird. Then she hurtled back to earth.

She hit the ground hard and heard a loud crack accompanied by a sharp pain in her arm. She cried out quietly, but didn't have enough energy to get up, even if she hadn't just broken her arm. The fall took a toll on her skin, too. She was bruised and cut everywhere, and she knew that she would have broken her neck, if she could die.

"Callie!" Sam yelled, hitting the ground and running over to her side. "Are you okay?"

"Think... I broke my... Arm," she mumbled as he reached down and picked her up.

"Don't worry, we'll get you out of here," Sam promised.

They were in front of Dean and John, who were still coming down the ladder, and emerged from the shadow of the building, racing to the impala.

Calypso didn't see the demon coming. In fact, she didn't see the demon at all. It just suddenly rammed into Sam's side, knocking them both over. Calypso skidded a few feet and laid there, on the brink of unconsciousness. She turned to her other side to see the demon from the warehouse beating Sam to a pulp. She blinked slowly and Dean was suddenly trying to help his brother. Calypso could no longer make out any noise, but saw Dean mouth something, probably his brother's name.

He kicked the demon in the face, but it had no effect. Instead the demon became angry. Dean was suddenly thrown onto a parked car, shattering the windshield. The demon went back to beating Sam.

Calypso felt rage strengthen her, and got up. She may not have been going very fast, but she was steadily walking over to the demon until she was right in front of it. It looked up at her and smiled.

"Get. Away. From. My. Brother," Calypso said through clenched teeth.

A look of terror gradually replaced the smug smile on the demon's face and Calypso clenched her fists, anger overtaking her. There was a sudden tugging sensation in her stomach and, without being touched, the demon was flung backwards. It landed on its back, hard.

Exhaustion overtook Calypso. She had no idea she could do what she just did. It took energy, lots of energy. As the demon came back, Calypso closed her eyes, knowing she was about to be hit hard. Somehow, she was okay with it. She was just going to let it happen.

And there was a gunshot. Calypso opened her eyes and everything seemed to be going in slow motion. The demon was falling over, dead. Turning her head, Calypso saw Dean with the Colt still in his hands. He had shot the demon, wasted a bullet, to save her and Sam.

A sudden weariness hit Calypso hard and she staggered back. Her rage was gone, her fuel had disappeared. She wasn't strong enough to stand up. She had pushed herself to hard.

The darkness pushed back, taking over her vision as Calypso fell.

Sam and Dean decided to go to a cabin deep in the woods, a place they figured they would not be found in. Dean, being the one in better health, laid both the semi-conscious John and knocked out Calypso in a completely empty room. He frowned as he looked down at the two. They looked so small while unconscious. John was always so strong and powerful that sleep made him seem smaller than he actually was. Calypso just seemed younger. Her mouth was slightly parted and there was a very faint smile on her face. He hoped she was having good dreams.

Dean then looked down at Calypso's arm and sighed. Snapped cleanly in half. It would take a trip to the hospital to get that fixed. All Dean could do was adjust it a bit so that it wouldn't hurt as much. As he did, he remembered how Calypso flew right by him as he had climbed down the fire escape. The girl had almost given him a heart attack. He should have known she wouldn't make it down. He should have made Sam help her, instead of letting her fall to the ground.

Dean went back into the other room where Sam was pouring salt along the window sill. His face was a mess of bruises and blood, and was swelling to the size of a balloon in places.

"How are they?" Sam asked.

"I think they just need a little rest. Dad's awake, but Callie's still out," Dean replied.

"You checked on her arm, right?" Sam confirmed. Dean nodded.

"It's gonna take a trip to the hospital to make that better," Dean told him. "I fixed it as much as I could. How are you doing?"

"I'll survive." Sam turned to Dean. "Hey, you don't think we were followed here, do you?"

"I don't know," Dean admitted. "I don't think so. I mean, we couldn't have found a more out-of-the-way place to hole up."

"Yeah," Sam agreed. He looked at his brother. Truly looked at him, not just in his direction. "Hey, uh... Dean, you, um... you saved my life back there."

"So, I guess you're glad I brought the gun, huh?" Dean teased, remembering the argument earlier on whether to bring the Colt or not.

"Man, I'm trying to thank you here," Sam complained.

"You're welcome," Dean told him. He paused. "Callie saved you first, though. She threw the damn thing like fifteen feet." Sam walked across the room with a smile. "Hey, Sam?" Dean asked in a more somber tone.

"Yeah?"

"You know that guy I shot?" Dean brought up. "There was a person in there."

"You didn't have a choice, Dean," Sam protested before Dean could make a point.

"Yeah, I know, that's not what bothers me," Dean admitted.

"Then what does?"

"Killing that guy, killing Meg," Dean began thoughtfully. "I didn't hesitate, I didn't even flinch. For you or Dad or Callie, the things I'm willing to do or kill, it's just, uh... it scares me sometimes."

Sam simply looked at him, not knowing what to say, as John walked into the room.

"It shouldn't," Dean's father told him. "You did good."

"You're not mad?" Dean asked, surprised. John wasn't usually like this. Yeah, he cared about his family, but he cared about the demon even more.

"For what?"

"Using a bullet," Dean suggested.

"Mad? I'm proud of you. You know, Sam and I, we can get pretty obsessed," John admitted. This was sounding really strange to Dean, now. "But you – you watch out for this family. You always have."

"Thanks," Dean said hesitantly.

At that moment the wind outside picked up and the lights flickered. Calypso began to stir in the other room as everyone else looked out the window.

"It found us," John said. "It's here."

"The demon?" Sam asked fearfully. John immediately barked out orders, not answering the question.

"Sam, lines of salt in front of every window, every door," John instructed.

"I already did it," Sam told him.

"Well, check it, okay?" John demanded, getting impatient. "Check on Callie while you're at it."

"Okay," Sam agreed before leaving the room.

"Dean, you got the gun?" John asked next.

"Yeah."

"Give it to me."

"Dad, Sam tried to shoot the demon in Salvation," Dean recalled, taking the Colt out of his jeans. "It disappeared."

"This is me," John insisted. "I won't miss. Now, the gun, hurry."

Dean hesitated at that moment and looked down at the gun unsurely. In the meantime, Calypso was beginning to open her eyes, still dazed, in the next room.

"Son, please," John insisted, holding his hand out.

Dean began to back up a few steps, suspecting what might have happened, but not wanting to believe it.

"Give me the gun. What are you doing, Dean?"

"He'd be furious," Dean realized quietly.

"What?"

"That I wasted a bullet. He wouldn't be proud of me, he'd tear me a new one."

John simply looked at his son as Dean raised the gun, pointed at him, and cocked it.

"You're not my Dad."

Calypso rolled over in the next room, wondering why it smelled like wood, and whimpered as pain instantaneously shot up her arm. Of course, she realized, everything coming back to her. She had broken her arm just a few hours earlier.

There was nobody in the room with her, but Calypso could hear quiet voices speaking in the next room. She let herself lay there for a moment. She was safe now. Nobody was going to torture her, drug her, or experiment on her. The Winchesters weren't going to let anything like that happen again.

There was a sudden commotion in the next room and Calypso wondered if she should get up. There were no voices that she didn't know, though, so she stayed put. They were probably just arguing.

Then she began to make out words and sat straight up, the blood draining from her face. Oh God.

That wasn't John in there with Sam and Dean.

"Dean, it's me," John tried to persuade his son.

"I know my Dad better than anyone," Dean explained. "And you ain't him."

"What the hell's gotten into you?"

"I could ask you the same thing. Stay back."

Sam came into the room at that moment and paused, completely shocked. Why was his brother pointing a gun at his father?

"Dean? What the hell's going on?" Sam asked nervously.

"Your brother's lost his mind," John claimed.

"He's not Dad," Dean told Sam steadily.

"What?"

"I think he's possessed. I think he's been possessed since we rescued him." He began to get upset. "What about Callie? Is she possessed, too?"

"You've lost your mind," John said. "Don't listen to him, Sammy."

"Dean, how do you know?" Sam asked, wanting to understand.

"He's... he's different," Dean tried to explain, fighting back tears.

Sam was overwhelmed. Who was right? Who was wrong? Was Calypso a part of this? What was going on?

"You know, we don't have time for this," John protested. "Sam, you wanna kill this demon, you've gotta trust me."

Sam looked back and forth between his family members, torn. Dean glanced at his brother, but no longer tried to persuade him. Dean felt as if he needed persuasion instead.

"Sam?" John prompted.

He looked back and forth again.

"No," Sam whispered. "No."

He moved over next to Dean. John looked at the two of them without emotion.

"Fine. You're both so sure, go ahead," John told them, sounding betrayed, though his face was impassive. "Kill me."

He looked down and waited as Dean kept the gun on him. But Dean couldn't bring himself to shoot. What if he was wrong? What if he was about to shoot his dad?

"I thought so," John said, his voice turning to sound triumphant and sly.

He looked back up at his boys; his eyes were a swirly yellow. Sam lunged forward, but was telepathically thrown against the wall and pinned there, as was Dean, who dropped the Colt as he was thrown. Possessed John picked it up.

"What a pain in the ass this thing's been," the demon possessing John stated as he looked at the gun emotionlessly.

"It's you, isn't it?" Sam asked poisonously. "We've been looking for you for a long time."

"Well, you found me."

"But the holy water?" Sam asked, confused.

"You think something like that works on something like me?" the demon asked, amused. He looked at Sam for a moment before answering the unspoken question. "No, Calypso is not possessed, since you're wondering. We tried, but it didn't work. Looks like we're gonna have to get a little messy with that one to make sure she knows which side to fight for."

Hearing that, Sam tried to fight the force that kept him pinned to the wall, but he made no progress and eventually gave up.

"I'm gonna kill you!" he exclaimed.

"Oh, that'd be a neat trick," the demon told him. "In fact," He put the Colt down on the table. "Here. Make the gun float to you there, psychic boy."

Sam looked at the gun, trying to focus, then saw a head peek around the doorway. Black hair, violet eyes - Calypso was awake.

And scared to death, but Calypso was not going to let anyone see that weakness. Not if she was going to fight the demon. Not just a demon, the demon. She didn't think it would end too well for her, but she had to try. She wouldn't just surrender. She couldn't. She locked eyes with Dean next and nodded at him, concentration on her face. They needed to be able to fight at any moment.

"Well, this is fun," the demon commented as he walked over to the window beside Dean. Dean followed him with his eyes, then switched back to where Calypso was. Or used to be. She had disappeared. "I could've killed you a hundred times today, but this..." He sighed. "This is worth the wait."

Dean struggled, but couldn't break free from the force. John looked over at him, amused.

"Your Dad – he's in here with me. Trapped inside his own meat suit. He says hi, by the way," the demon told him, having too much fun for his own good. "He's gonna tear you apart. He's gonna taste the iron in your blood."

"Let him go, or I swear to God–" Dean began viciously. He looked around the room quickly, trying to locate Calypso, but she clearly didn't want to be found.

"What? What are you and God gonna do?" the demon asked. "You see, as far as I'm concerned, this is justice." He came over to Dean. "You know that little exorcism of yours? That was my daughter."

"Who, Meg?"

"The one in the alley? That was my boy," the demon continued, blowing past the question. "You understand?"

"You've got to be kidding me," Dean said obnoxiously.

"What? You're the only one that can have a family?" he asked defensively. "You destroyed my children. How would you feel if I killed your family?" He smiled at Dean. "Oh, that's right. I forgot. I did. Still, two wrongs don't make a right."

"You son of a bitch."

"I wanna know why. Why'd you do it?" Sam asked suddenly.

The demon turned to Sam and Dean looked around the room again. Where the hell was she?

"You mean why did I kill Mommy and pretty, little Jess?" the demon asked playfully.

"Yeah."

The demon turned back to Dean, smirking.

"You know, I never told you this, but Sam was going to ask her to marry him." He backed up towards Sam again. "Been shopping for rings and everything." The demon turned to the younger brother. "You want to know why? Because they got in the way."

"In the way of what?"

"My plans for you, Sammy," the demon stated almost affectionately. "You... and all the children like you."

What did he mean by that?

"Listen, you mind just getting this over with, huh?" Dean asked sarcastically. He was trying to get the demon's attention away from Sam. "'Cause I really can't stand the monologuing."

John went back to him.

"Funny, but that's all part of your M.O., isn't it? Masks all that nasty pain, masks the truth," the demon said.

"Oh, yeah? What's that?"

"You know, you fight and you fight for this family, but the truth is they don't need you. Not like you need them." He smiled. "Sam – he's clearly John's favorite. Even when they fight, it's more concern than he's ever shown you. Even Calypso, a girl who he barely has a connection to him, is more important than you."

"I bet you're real proud of your kids, too, huh? Oh wait, I forgot," Dean said with a smirk. "I wasted 'em."

Dean smiled as the demon looked at him. The thing stepped back and put his head down for a moment, seeming to concentrate. When he looked back up, Dean suddenly yelled in pain.

"Dean!" Sam exclaimed. "No!"

Dean started to bleed heavily from his chest, the blood pouring down like small waterfalls. Seeing his brother being hurt, Sam struggled against the force pinning him.

"Dad!" Dean yelled, desperately hoping that his father would hear him somehow. "Dad, don't you let it kill me!"

The demon looked at him and smiled as Dean began screaming in pain. And it became all too much.

"Stop!" a voice protested shrilly as a girl ran across the room, panicked. "Stop it! PLEASE!"

The three turned to look at Calypso in shock. She literally came out of nowhere. The demon quickly returned its gaze back to Dean, however, and Calypso positioned herself between the two, aware that Dean was still groaning in pain behind her. She would have to act quickly.

This wasn't a part of her original plan, of course. She had been looking around for a weapon, but all the supplies had been in the room with the Winchesters. Then she hid in a small closet that she found, which just so happened to have a hole looking into the room. She was looking for weaknesses, but hadn't found anything before Dean started screaming. It was then that she sprinted to the room in horror.

"Stop it!" she pleaded again. There was a moment as the demon looked at her with a cunning smile.

"What would you do for me in return?" it asked.

"Anything," she gasped, eyes shining with unshed tears. "Hurt me, kidnap me again, experiment to your heart's content, but please, don't hurt Dean!"

"Now, now," the demon considered. "What a nice plan." He looked her over and she closed her eyes, expecting the worst.

And it came, crashing into her like a tidal wave. Her throat suddenly tightened up and began burning as her chest was compressed on all sides. Her legs gave out when they became numb and she collapsed onto her throbbing arms. Calypso's body curled into a ball, protecting her stomach, which felt as if was being shredded into pieces. But the pain was less than she expected.

"Callie!" Sam yelled, whereas Dean was quiet. Scarily quiet.

"Oh, and do tell me how Red Eyes is doing," the demon suggested. Calypso whimpered and tightened herself, holding onto her aching head. It laughed. "I thought so. He was never the gentle kind." He crouched down to her level as she groaned from a sudden intense wave of pain. "I can make you all better, right now, if you agree to one thing." Calypso looked up with hate in her eyes. "Just join me. You will be rewarded immensely. Worshipped, even."

"No," she told him. The pain was slightly lessened during their conversation so she was able to speak. Her glare dug into the demon like knives. "Screw you and your side."

The demon shook its head regretfully and straightened up.

"You're gonna which you didn't say that," he warned.

Calypso screamed as there was what felt like a slice down her chest to her stomach. A quick glance told her that she was correct. It was deep and wide. It wouldn't be easy to heal. There was another slash, more screaming, more laughter.

A few slices later, Calypso was on the verge of passing out. She had lost a lot of blood, more blood than she thought was possible. Her body was suddenly straightened up and suspended a few inches off the ground. She was face to face with the demon. It smiled cruelly and looked down at where the other slashes were. Calypso felt another begin, thicker than the others, and was expecting to pass out any moment.

Then the pain stopped.

She fell to the floor in a heap, letting out a yelp as she landed on her broken arm, and Sam broke free behind her, then looked up. John's eyes had randomly turned brown again.

"Stop it," he whispered to himself.

Sam dove forward and grabbed the Colt off of the table as he was freed. John turned around, his eyes yellow once again. Sam aimed the gun at him.

"You kill me, you kill Daddy," the demon warned.

"I know," Sam told him. Calypso held her breath. Was he going to kill his father?

He pulled the trigger.

The bullet hit John in the leg. Not a fatal shot to John or the demon. As he fell down, so did a weak Dean. Calypso held her stomach with one hand and desperately crawled forward to Dean with the other. Sam got there first, but Calypso was not far behind. Spots were beginning to cover her vision. She had to hold on.

"Dean?" Sam asked softly as his brother woke up. "Dean, hey," he looked at the red puddles on the floor. "Oh God, you've lost a lot of blood."

"Where's Callie and Dad?" Dean asked, not worrying about himself.

"I'm here," Calypso whispered, sliding herself forward a few inches. Dean turned to look at her and smiled. "Your dad's okay, too."

"Go check on him," Dean told Sam weakly, looking back at his brother.

"Dean," Sam protested.

"Go check on him," Dean insisted.

Sam hesitated, looking down at his brother, then at his father.

"Go check on your dad," Calypso told him gently. "I'll take care of Dean."

Sam nodded and went over to check on his father as Calypso leaned Dean up a bit by putting his head in her lap. By doing so, he would be more comfortable, and less likely to choke on his own blood.

"You're bleeding," Dean noticed. Calypso looked down at her once gray shirt, now soaked in blood.

"Yeah, I guess I am," she told him softly. "I'll be okay, though. And so will you. You're gonna be just fine. I promise."

"That's a strong word," Dean mumbled, eyes half closed.

"Keep your eyes open!" Calypso ordered quickly. She took a deep breath. "Yeah, it's a strong word. I haven't used it in... A very long time."

"Sammy!" John's voice echoed around the room in a screech. Calypso and Dean looked up, startled. "It's still alive. It's inside me, I can feel it. You shoot me. You shoot me! You shoot me in the heart, son!" Sam quickly aimed the gun at John. "Do it now!"

"Sam, don't you do it," Dean protested quietly, too weak to yell. "Don't you do it."

"No," Calypso gasped, wide eyed. "Oh God, no."

"You've gotta hurry!" John yelled at Sam. "I can't hold onto it much longer! You shoot me, son! Shoot me! Son, I'm begging you! We can end this here and now! Sammy!"

"Sam, no," Dean whispered. Calypso looked at the scene silently, knowing what the brothers were feeling. Panic, mostly, but anger and uncontrollable sadness as well. Seeing a parent like this...

No, John couldn't die. Calypso wouldn't let him.

"You do this! Sammy!"

"Don't," Calypso told Sam quietly, wide eyed. He looked at her and lowered the gun, shaking his head.

"Sam..." John tried to convince him one last time.

There was a roaring sound as black smoke forced its way from John's mouth and disappeared through the floor. Then silence.

The demon was gone.

In the impala, only a few minutes later, Calypso was tending to Dean in the backseat, though there wasn't much to work with. He was slumped down in the left seat of the back, not able to last much longer. Sam was driving with John in the passenger seat.

Sam had told Calypso that she should try to help herself, seeing as she was so weak that Sam had to carry her to the car, but she couldn't bring herself to. Dean was worse than she was, and she would help him, even if she, too, was on the verge of passing out.

There was a bump in the road and Calypso gasped in pain, doubling over to cover the large slashes through her chest and stomach.

"Look, just hold on, alright," Sam told everyone in the car. "The hospital's only ten minutes away."

Calypso nodded, fighting for breath, then looked over at Dean again. She but her lip. He really wasn't doing well. There was blood dripping down his lips and shirt and... Everywhere that could possibly be covered in blood. They needed to hurry up.

"I'm surprised at you, Sammy. Why didn't you kill it?" John accused. "I thought we saw eye-to-eye on this? Killing this demon comes first – before me, before everything."

Calypso looked up and met Sam's eyes in the mirror, her eyes holding great sadness. She was still bleeding. He then looked over to Dean, poor, bloody Dean. He shook his head.

"No, sir," Sam disagreed. "Not before everything. Look, we've still got the Colt. We still have the one bullet left." Calypso smiled at his optimism. "We just have to start over, alright?" Why did it suddenly get brighter? "I mean, we already found the demon-"

Calypso looked out the right window and screamed as the eighteen wheeler crashed into her side of the impala, aiming right where she was sitting. There was an incredible pain in her entire body as the impala's metal frame wrapped around her. Something hit her in the head, hard.

Her vision went dark.


	14. Chapter 14

"Heartbeat's steady!" a nurse called out.

The room was a frenzy of activity, as it had been for hours. Nurses went through various medical instruments while doctors simply stared in confusion.

On the hospital bed in front of them was a bruised and battered body. What skin was showing was a dark purple with slashes of red stretching every way. The limp girl's lips were parted slightly, making her face seem surprised, even while unconscious. Her hair was a rat's nest, a mess of dirty tangles, and dark circles ringed underneath her eyes, as if she hadn't slept in weeks.

The nurses had tried so hard to revive her, but nothing they did was working.

"There's nothing wrong with the brain," another informed them. "She's not in a coma."

"She's lost a lot of blood, but should be awake by now, from all the transfusions," yet another told her colleagues.

"I don't understand," the doctor nearest to her bed muttered to himself, though everyone in the room could hear it. "It's as if she just went to sleep and didn't wake up."

And Calypso wouldn't. Not for a long time.

Dean sat up, his memory foggy. He vaguely noticed the hospital room before he got out of the hospital bed he had been sleeping in, then looked down at himself. He was wearing only a white tee shirt and blue hospital pants, much to his surprise. He looked back up as he remembered his family was also in the hospital. Dean had to find them. He wasted no time before entering the hallway.

"Callie?" Dean called. "Sam? Dad? Anybody?"

He looked around a moment before going down the stairs to the front of the hospital. At the bottom was a nurse's station.

"Excuse me," Dean said to the blonde woman working behind the counter. "Hi. I, uh, I think I was in a car accident, my dad and my sister and my brother, I just need to find them." The nurse didn't respond. In fact, she made no signs of even hearing Dean. "Hello?" Dean asked, snapping his fingers.

The lady didn't see him. The blood drained from Dean's face as he considered an awful possibility. Dean ran back upstairs to his hospital room, panicking, and froze.

There, on his bed, was his own body, intubated and dying.

Dean looked around, not over the shock of seeing his own unconscious body. Where was everyone else? Were they okay? Were they alive? Dean could just barely remember the car crash. He remembered the bright headlights of the truck and Calypso's scream. Then he woke up in the hospital.

Or rather, didn't wake up.

"Dean?" a muffled voice seemed to ask from the doorway. He turned but there was no one there. "Can you-" The voice cut out for a moment. "Me?"

The outline of a young girl materialized for a second, then disappeared.

"Callie?" Dean asked in shock. "Is that - Am I hallucinating."

She appeared again, a grimace on her face from focusing so hard.

"No," she told him. "As far as I-" She disappeared again, then came back. "As far as I know," she told him, more forcefully. "All this is real."

"What's going on?" Dean asked. Calypso shook her head and shrugged.

"I don't know," she told him. Dean noticed she was wearing the same thing he was, except the shirt was a little more low-cut. He also noticed that she looked completely healthy. The scars that were normally on her arms were absent, as were the cuts and bruises she had had when they were hit by the truck. "I just woke up. Just kinda... Appeared, I guess. But it hurts to... Concentrate to make myself visible to you. I'm getting... better, though."

"You don't have any scars," Dean pointed out. She looked down at her arms and shook her head.

"What is going on?" she wondered aloud. "I mean, if this is death, it sucks more than I thought it would."

There was a noise by the door and the two turned to look. It was Sam, his face cut and bruised. He entered the room and paused as he saw Dean's body on the hospital bed. He clearly couldn't see Dean or Calypso.

Calypso bit her lip, her eyes widening. She had an idea about what was going on, but didn't want to say it out loud. If she was right, they were both screwed.

No, she couldn't be right.

"Sammy!" Dean exclaimed, relieved. "You look good, considering."

"Oh no," Sam whispered, the image of his brother's dying body sinking in.

"Man, tell me you can hear me. How's dad?" Dean began bombarding Sam with questions. "Is he okay? Come on, you're the psychic. Give me some ghost whispering or something!"

"He can't hear you," Calypso realized sadly. "And I don't have enough energy to become visible to him." Dean looked at her in surprise and she sighed in defeat. "I'm drained. It feels almost like I need to recharge."

"Great," Dean said sarcastically. Calypso nodded gloomily. They looked to the door again as a doctor entered the room.

"Your father's awake," the doctor told Sam. "You can go see him if you like."

"Thank god," Dean said as Calypso sighed in relief, her hand at her heart.

"Doc, what about my brother?" Sam asked fearfully. "And my sister?"

"I should start with your sister, I think," the doctor told him. "Uh, as soon as we are done speaking, I will need to tell your father about a private problem of hers. But for now..." He paused and a puzzled expression came over his face. "There doesn't seem to be any lasting damage. I should inform you that she should have died multiple times in the crash. Her body was wrapped in the car's frame. If that didn't kill her, then the blood loss would. If not that, then shock. Are you understanding?"

Sam nodded.

"She's surprisingly... Durable," Sam told him.

"Yeah, no kidding," she muttered to herself.

"She's very lucky," the doctor continued. "Her brain seems to be perfectly fine, we overcame the blood loss, but she just isn't waking up."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked while Calypso widened her eyes with a gasp.

"I mean that it seems like she just fell asleep and stayed that way," the doctor admitted.

"There has to be a reason," Sam protested. "Fix that and she'll wake up."

"There is no source," the doctor told him firmly. "We've triple checked. We would do something if we could, but we can't. We're sorry."

"Oh crap," Calypso whispered, the blood draining from her face. "Damn it. Shit!"

Dean looked over at her as she continued cursing using stronger words. When she started pulling at her hair, he decided to intervene.

"Whoa there," Dean said, lightly touching her shoulder. "What's going on?"

"What's going on?!" Calypso asked in hysterics. "What's going on is that I don't think I'm ever waking up!"

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked, taken aback. "Of course you are!"

Calypso shook her head, her ears ringing. It was piecing together, bit by bit.

"I should've died," she began explaining, clearly upset. "I should've died multiple times. And I think that was too much for me."

"What do you mean?"

"I've noticed that every time I should die, from being shot, stabbed, or attempting to commit suicide, I get tired. Like exhausted tired," Calypso tried to explain. "It takes a while for me to get back to normal. I thought it was nothing, just a minor side affect, but maybe not."

"You think you're losing energy," Dean guessed. His eyes widened. "You think you lost so much energy that you won't be able to wake up again."

"That's exactly what I think," Calypso agreed, calming down.

"I'm sure you'll wake up," Dean said worriedly. "It might take a while, but..."

He trailed off and they looked at each other for a moment, realizing just how bad the situation was. In the background, Sam's protests about Calypso's health turned into questions about Dean.

"Well, he sustained serious injury: blood loss, contusions to his liver and kidney," the doctor explained to an anxious Sam. "But it's the head trauma I'm worried about. There's early signs of cerebral edema."

"Oh god, that's not good," Calypso gasped, putting her hands up to her mouth.

"Well, what can we do?" Sam asked nervously.

"Well, we won't know his full condition until he wakes up," the doctor told him. Calypso held her breath.

Don't say it. Calypso repeated over and over in her head. Please don't say it.

"If he wakes up."

Calypso cried out and stepped back. No, no, Dean had to wake up. It didn't matter if Calypso stayed this way. She wouldn't mind. The only people that would care would be the Winchesters, and they would get over it quickly. But they wouldn't get over it if Dean died. If Dean died, nothing would be the same.

"If?" Sam asked in shock.

"I have to be honest-" the doctor began.

"Oh, screw you, Doc, I'm waking up," Dean overlapped.

"Most people with this degree of injury wouldn't have survived this long," the doctor said. "He's fighting very hard. But you need to have realistic expectations."

"Come on, Sam," Dean exclaimed. "Go find some hoodoo priest to lay some mojo on me." Sam just stared at the doctor. "Sam?"

"I-" Calypso began, her voice choked. "I have to-"

She turned to the door, about to run, but Dean tugged her back.

"Callie, listen to me," Dean told her, looking into her tear filled eyes. His hands were on her shoulders, making her face him. "We're both gonna fight this, okay? We're gonna fight this hard, and we're gonna make it out, no matter what it takes. You got that?"

She nodded as a stray tear escaped her eye. Calypso wasn't crying for herself, of course. She had stopped doing that years ago. But the idea that Dean could die was making her eyes well up. And yet he was still concerned for her, a girl who couldn't die.

"Yeah. I got it."

Calypso and Dean followed the doctor and Sam down the hall to John. John had his arm in a sling and cuts all over his face, but he looked okay, considering they had just been in a car crash. As soon as they entered the room, the doctor quickly shooed Sam away. Needless to say, Sam became angry.

"I want to know what's going on!" Sam protested as the argument continued.

"It's a matter for her father, which is clearly not you," the doctor told him before shutting Sam out of the room.

"Is there a problem?" John asked after the door was closed.

"I just have a few questions to ask about your daughter," he replied.

"Like what?"

"Well, you see, this is rather hard to phrase," the doctor admitted with a sigh. John stared at him expectantly. "Did you know that your daughter harms herself?"

"Oh no," Calypso muttered next to Dean, putting her face in her hands. "God no, don't tell him! No, no-"

"What?" John asked, the doctor having his full attention.

"I'm sorry," he told John, looking at him sadly. "We discovered it-"

"How did she do it?" he asked.

Calypso shivered by the doorway, feeling nauseous. John wasn't supposed to find out. Nobody was!

"There are many cuts on her forearms, both recent and old," the doctor described. "There are also scars covering her entire body, seeming to come from the same cause."

"Those ones aren't from me," she whispered, though nobody heard her.

"It seems she has suicidal thoughts, as there are deeper cuts in certain, well placed spots," the doctor continued. "Did your daughter have such tendencies?"

"No, she doesn't," John told him. "Not that I know of."

"If she wakes up, we will consult a therapist and help her as much as we can," the doctor told John gently. "I think that's all. It's your choice whether or not to tell your son, but he can come in now. I'll be back as soon as I'm needed to."

The doctor then exited as John stared after him with a blank expression that hurt Calypso's heart. He was disappointed, she knew, and shocked. Calypso knew she couldn't stay anymore. John wouldn't let her. He was disgusted, he was sad. He was angry.

He wouldn't keep Calypso in his family.

"I thought you stopped," Dean said quietly from next to her. "I thought after the shapeshifter-"

"I tried," she admitted, turning to him. "I couldn't. It helps, Dean."

"It's hurting you!" he protested. "I knew I should've-"

"What?" Calypso challenged. "Taken away my knife?" She laughed. "You can't do that. I need it for hunting. You can't stop me, Dean."

"I need to try!" he roared.

"No, you need to let me take care of myself!" Calypso yelled back, stepping towards him.

"Oh, yeah, and what a great job you've been doing!"

"It's my choice, Dean!" Calypso turned away from him. Her voice was quiet as she spoke again. "It's my choice. I know it's a bad one. But I want - I need - to continue. You don't understand."

"You're right, I don't," Dean admitted. "But I thought you wanted to live, Callie. I thought... I mean, you seemed upset when you realized you weren't in your body. I thought you finally realized you're worth something. I thought you wanted to live."

"No," Calypso said with a shake of her head. "I want out. I can't handle this. I want to die. I deserve to. I just want out of this hellhole. But if out means just staying and watching as a ghost, I can't do it. I can't stay here where everything is a bad memory." She looked up at Dean and he noticed she was tearing up. "It's hurting me to stay. I mean, look at me! I'm a wreck!" Calypso laughed bitterly. "But you don't get it. You've never been to this kind of low. You've never been so tired of life that you need to kill yourself. You've never felt empty on the inside. It's unbearable, if I don't..." She trailed off and took a deep breath to focus herself. "Dean, I'm not strong enough without this. Without this, I'd be as good as dead."

"You will be anyway," Dean told her quietly.

"It's better than the alternative," she replied in the same tone of voice.

The argument paused as they both took a breath. It was the first time they had ever disagreed with each other, and were outspoken about it. They were in shock.

"I can't believe you didn't tell Dad," Dean finally told her, looking at his father's blank expression.

"I didn't think I had to," she admitted. Her face turned white. "Oh God, what does he think of me now?"

"I don't think he sees you any differently," Dean told her quickly, trying to prevent her from becoming upset. "I mean, he might think you need a little support, but-"

Dean was interrupted by the door opening and Sam rushing in. He stopped dead when he saw his father, who hadn't even looked up when Sam had entered the room. There was a moment of silence as nobody dared to breathe, or even move. Then John spoke.

"Did you know?" he asked quietly.

"Did I know what?" Sam replied, anxious.

"Did you know what Calypso was doing to herself?" John clarified angrily.

Sam paused in shock for a moment, stepping back. Calypso looked away into the corner, disappointed in herself. She had this awful pain in her heart, the kind that always came when she regretted something completely.

"I thought she stopped," he admitted quietly.

"Well, she didn't."

"Dad, I-"

"Sam, this is the kind of thing I need to be told about," John told his son. "I don't care if you thought she was done with it, I needed to know."

"I'm sorry," Sam mumbled. Calypso was, too. Maybe she would stop. Maybe she could stop. It wouldn't hurt to try, at least.

"You should be," John told him. "If I had known what Calypso was doing..." He trailed off. "I was supposed to protect her."

"I don't think she wants to be protected," Sam admitted. "She would've told you about it if she wanted help."

"She never wants help."

Sam smiled.

And so did Calypso.

A few minutes later, Sam and John were finished discussing Calypso's habit and Dean's condition, so the two got down to business. They needed to be realistic and practical about the situation. And that meant they needed to pay for the hospital treatment.

John awkwardly pulled a card out of his wallet, using only the hand available.

"Here," he said, offering the card to his son. "Give them my insurance."

Sam took the card and smiled as he read it.

"Elroy McGillicutty?" he asked, amused.

"And his three loving children," John told him. "So, what else did the doctor say about Dean?"

"Nothing," Sam told him, his smile gone. "Look, the doctors won't do anything, then we'll have to, that's all. I don't know, I'll find some hoodoo priest and lay some mojo on him."

"We'll look for someone," John agreed, clearly troubled.

"Yeah."

"But Sam, I don't know if we're gonna find anyone," he warned.

"Why not?" Sam asked defensively. "I found that faith healer before."

"All right, that was, that was one in a million," John admitted.

"So what?" Sam asked angrily. "Do we just sit here with our thumbs up our ass?"

"No, I said we'd look. All right?" John asked. "I'll check under every stone." There was a beat. "And how's Calypso's condition? Will she be okay?"

"I don't really know, Dad," Sam admitted, shaking his head. "They just told me that she won't wake up. Like she just fell asleep. They won't even let me go see her."

"That's crazy," John told him. "There has to be a reason she's unconscious."

"The doc told me they triple checked, but couldn't find anything," Sam explained. "Could it be something supernatural?"

"That's the only thing it could be," John told him. "Did the doctor say anything else?"

"No, just that she should've died like a hundred times during the crash." Sam paused a moment. "I mean, I guess she did get the worst of it in her seat. The truck just plowed straight into her. They had to cut her out of the car. It was that bad."

"The only reason I can think of is loss of energy," John thought out loud. "It happens, especially to things that can't die."

"Did you just call Callie a thing?" Sam asked angrily. "She isn't a thing, dad, she's Callie."

"That's not what I meant, Sam," John told him, exasperated. "We all know she isn't human, but we don't know what she is. So we don't know what she can do."

"A hell of a lot apparently," Sam muttered.

There was a moment of silence.

"Where's the Colt?" John suddenly asked.

"Your son is dying, Callie's doing who knows what, and you're worried about the Colt?" Sam asked, upset.

"We're hunting this demon, and maybe it's hunting us too," John told him. "That gun may be our only card."

"It's in the trunk. They dragged the car to a yard off of I-83," Sam informed his father.

"All right. You've gotta clean out that trunk before some junk man sees what's inside."

"I already called Bobby. He's like an hour out, he's gonna tow the Impala back to his place," Sam said.

"All right. You, you go meet up with Bobby," John ordered. "You get that Colt, and you bring it back to me. And you watch out for hospital security."

"I think I've got it covered."

Sam got up to leave.

"Hey," John called after him. He held out a piece of paper to Sam, who picked it up. "Here. I made a list of things I need, have Bobby pick them up for me."

"Acacia?" Sam asked, reading the list. "Oil of Abramelin? What's this stuff for?"

"Protection," John answered simply. "And if Calypso appears to you, the way she does sometimes while she sleeps, call me immediately. She could have news about Dean and herself."

Sam nodded and was about to leave again, but turned back. A question was burning in his mind.

"Hey, Dad? You know, the demon, he said he had plans for me, and children like me. Do you have any idea what he meant by that?" Sam asked.

John was quiet for a moment. That was a loaded question that he was not prepared to answer.

"No, I don't," John finally stated.

"Do you think Callie might be one of them?" Sam asked.

John quickly shook his head.

"I don't think she is."

Sam nodded and left, shutting the door behind him. Calypso emerged from behind the door while Dean stayed where he was, leaning on the wall behind where the door had been. They noticed that John looked somewhat guilty.

"Well, you sure know something," Dean stated.

Calypso nodded. John knew a lot. In fact, she was sure John knew a bit about what she was.

"I just want to see my body," Calypso told Dean as they traveled through the hospital to the pediatric wing. "I promise it'll be quick. We'll be in your room again before Sam gets back."

"I'm not worried about timing, I'm worried about what we might see," Dean admitted.

"So am I," Calypso agreed. She looked down the long, bright hallway of the pediatric wing. "Wow, what a change from the whites and grays."

Calypso led Dean by following a slight pull on her body, getting stronger as she followed. She eventually stopped outside a closed door, where the tug was the strongest. But she hesitated. She wasn't sure what shape her body was in, and wasn't sure she wanted to see it.

"Are you sure you want to see?" Dean asked one more time. She nodded. She had to. "Okay."

They stepped through the door, the way ghosts would, and ended up in a purple themed room with a single bed in the center, surrounded by machines making various noises.

And in the bed was Calypso's body. She took a few steps forward, stopping at the edge of it, and was stunned.

"There's nothing wrong with me," she told Dean, turning around. "No tubes, no casts, just something monitoring my heart. Even though my arm was broken from falling off the building."

"You really do look like you're sleeping," he admitted. "I thought the doctor was exaggerating, but it looks like you could wake up at any moment."

"Still have my scars though," Calypso pointed out, looking at her arm. "Figured those wouldn't heal."

"Your heartbeat's steady," Dean informed her, looking at the monitor.

"I think your dad and I are right," Calypso told him, tilting her head in disbelief. "I think I am recharging. Or something like that."

"I'm leaning that way, too," Dean admitted. "You're too healthy."

She nodded and looked over at her body. She shivered, but not from cold.

"That's enough, I think," Calypso said, beginning to back out of the room. "Let's go back to your room. This is creeping me out."

Dean took one last look at Calypso's body and nodded.

"Yeah," he agreed, following her.

Calypso didn't look back.

A few hours later, John, Dean, and Calypso were back in Dean's room, just watching. John sat by his son's side and watched him, expressionless, while Calypso and Dean stood nearby, watching him.

"Come on, Dad. You've gotta help us," Dean said out of the blue. Calypso turned to him sadly. John hadn't moved since he entered the room. He never looked for a solution, and Dean was losing hope. "We've gotta get better, We've gotta get back in there. I mean, you haven't called a soul for help. You haven't even tried. Aren't you going to do anything? Aren't you even going to say anything?" He began walking around the bed. Calypso watched him unsurely. "I've done everything you have ever asked me. Everything. I have given everything I've ever had. And you're just going to sit there and you're going to watch me die?" His footsteps paused. When he continued, his voice was softer. "And you're supposed to protect Callie." Calypso's gaze shifted to the ground. "It was practically her mother's dying wish! Why aren't you trying to help? She's protected all of us, more times than we can count, and this is how you repay her? I mean, what the hell kind of father are you?"

"Wait," Calypso suddenly said, hearing something she couldn't identify. Dean looked over at her and seemed to hear it, too.

"What is that?" he asked. Calypso felt a tug in her stomach, and suddenly had the answer to that question. She prayed she was wrong.

The two went into the hallway and looked around a moment.

_Whoosh_.

A gray spirit went past them out of the blue, making Dean jump back. Calypso simply sighed. Why was everything always the exact opposite of what she wanted?

"I take it you didn't see that," she heard Dean say to his father as she began to follow the spirit. It felt different than a ghost, but oddly familiar. She couldn't place it.

Dean joined her in stalking the spirit down a few hallways, and stopped as it went into a small room. Calypso stepped back with a gasp. On the floor in front of her laid a flailing and choking woman.

"Help!" she gasped. "Help!"

Dean turned back into the hallway as Calypso darted forward and kneeled by the woman's side.

"Hey! I need some help in here!" Dean called. Naturally, no one heard him.

"I can't... breathe!" the woman gasped.

"Sh... Sh..." Calypso whispered soothingly, trying to put a comforting hand on her arm. "It's okay. You're okay. Just relax."

The woman nodded, but continued to pant loudly, trying desperately to breathe.

She went silent.

Calypso bowed her head and felt Dean looking at the woman's body helplessly.

They then went back to Dean's hospital room in a hurry, borderline panicked.

"What was that?" Calypso wondered out loud. Dean shrugged and shook his head.

"Some kind of spirit, maybe," he suggested. Calypso shook her head quickly.

"No, it felt like something different. Something familiar, but I can't quite remember..." she told him. The conversation paused. "The poor woman, though..."

"You seemed to really help her relax a bit," Dean pointed out. "I mean she knew she was dying, but kinda calmed down when you talked to her anyway."

"She still died, though," Calypso sighed.

"But you helped her. You calmed her down. That counts for something."

"It's a talent," she replied dryly.

"Doesn't seem like you'd get too much practice."

Calypso laughed bitterly.

"You'd be surprised."

Back in John's room, Calypso and Dean were still frightened from the encounter as Sam stalked into the room with a duffel bag. Dean met him at the door immediately while Calypso stayed in the corner. She was losing hope quickly, but Dean was still fighting.

"Sammy! Tell me you can friggin' hear me, man, there's something in the hospital," Dean tried to tell his brother. Calypso sighed, but let him attempt. She knew it comforted him, even though it wouldn't work. "Now, you've got to bring me back and we've got to hunt this thing. Sam!"

"You're quiet," John observed. Sam could hear _him_, obviously.

He turned, burning with anger, and hurled the bag onto the bed with a crash.

"Did you think I wouldn't find out?" Sam asked his father.

"What are you talking about?" John replied.

"That stuff from Bobby, you don't use it to ward off a demon, you use it to summon one," Sam told him, raising his voice. "You're planning on bringing the demon here, aren't you? Having some stupid macho showdown?!"

"I have a plan, Sam," John protested quietly.

"What plan?" Calypso questioned, though she knew he couldn't hear her. "You haven't even done anything!"

"That's exactly my point!" Sam exploded. "Dean is dying, Callie seems to be doing the same, and you have a plan!? You know what, you care more about killing this demon than you do saving your own family!

"No, no, no, guys, don't do this!" Dean protested. He and Calypso exchanged a frustrated look.

"Do not tell me how I feel!" John ordered his son. "I am doing this for Dean and

Calypso!"

"How? How is revenge going to help them?" Sam pointed out. "You're not thinking about anybody but yourself, it's the same selfish obsession!"

"Come on guys, don't do this!" Dean protested again, overlapping with his father.

"You know, it's funny, I thought it was your obsession too!" John told Sam, becoming angrier by the second. "This demon killed your mother, killed your girlfriend. You begged me to be part of this hunt. Now if you'd killed that damn thing when you had the chance, none of this would have happened!"

"Damn it," Calypso sighed. She was reminded of that fight Sam and Dean had that ended with Dean almost being killed by a scarecrow. She was in the middle of that one, too. But, of course, they could see her during that fight.

"It was possessing you, Dad, I would have killed you too," Sam protested.

"Yeah, and your brother and sister would be awake right now," John claimed.

Actually, Calypso wasn't sure she would be. It wasn't fully the car crash. She had lost a lot of blood and had been in so much pain. She would have blacked out anyway.

"Shut up, both of you!" Dean yelled desperately. What John and Sam were saying was uncalled for.

"Go to hell," Sam hissed.

"Really guys?" Calypso asked. "Don't we gave bigger problems to take care of?"

"I should have never taken you along in the first place," John told Sam. Calypso stepped back with a shocked gasp. That was low. What was he thinking? "I knew it was a mistake, I knew I was wrong-"

"I said SHUT UP!" Dean yelled.

He raised his hand to strike a glass water off the table. Calypso was sure that his hand would go through the cup.

But it didn't.

It went flying and crashed to the floor, shattering. There was a moment of complete stillness as everyone looked at the broken glass in shock. Sam and John shared a look of confusion at the same time that Calypso and Dean exchanged a shocked gaze.

"Dude, I full-on Swayze'd that mother," Dean told Calypso.

She blinked, stunned.

Then Dean collapsed, his figure flickering. At the same moment, nurses and doctors were sprinting by in the hallway.

"DEAN!" Calypso screamed in fear, her heart stopping. She ran over to him and tried to help him up.

"I'm okay," Dean told her, getting up shakily. "What is it?"

"Something's going on out there," John noticed.

He looked at Sam and jerked his head, indicating "Go find out." Sam left the room to exactly that, and was soon followed by a slow Dean and a cautious Calypso.

What was happening?

Sam got there long before Calypso and Dean, due to the fact that Calypso kept asking Dean if he was okay. Dean brushed her off each time she showed concern, but she continued asking.

"Wait," Calypso said thoughtfully, pausing abruptly. "I know where we're going."

Dean looked up at where Sam had stopped and stepped backwards, stunned. He was at the door to Dean's room.

And he looked upset.

Calypso sprinted forward in panic while Dean seemed to go forward even more slowly, dreading what might be happening. As Calypso stopped beside Sam, the professional voices coming from the doctors and nurses, as well as the beeping of monitors, sunk in.

A group of doctors and nurses were surrounding Dean's body as his heartrate flatlined, trying to resuscitate him.

"No," Sam whispered next to Calypso, huddling in the doorway. She looked back to see tears in his eyes.

"Please," she found herself whispering, not taking her eyes off of Sam.

"Still no pulse," a nurse declared.

"Okay, let's go again, 360," a doctor ordered.

"Charging."

The beeping sounds continued.

Calypso found herself closing her eyes and clasping her hands together, pleading with God to let Dean survive. She would do anything, she just needed Dean to live.

Her hands then found their way up to her necklace and grasped it tightly.

Calypso opened her eyes as Dean appeared slowly behind Sam in the doorway. He looked at his own body with something like shock on his face - or was that fear?

"You get the hell away from me!" Dean yelled suddenly, running past Calypso to his body.

She whirled around, surprised, and saw exactly what Dean did. There was a dark gray, ghostly figure floating over his body, the same one from earlier, it seemed, and Calypso wondered why she didn't notice it before. She might have only quickly skimmed the scene, but she shouldn't have missed a detail that big.

Dean, being the stupidly brave man he was, was yelling as he faced down whatever the thing was. Calypso didn't hesitate to join him.

"I said get back!" Dean restated. His voice seemed to resonate for a moment, echoing in Calypso's mind, before it went silent.

Dean jumped forward and grabbed for the thing. He latched on for a moment before it pushed him away and flew out of the room.

The monitors slowed down, quiet.

"We have a pulse," the nurse announced. "We're back into sinus rhythm."

Calypso sighed in relief and turned to a perplexed Sam as Dean ran into the hallway, looking for the spirit. Sam sighed the way Calypso did, backing into the hallway and watching from there. Calypso followed while Dean came back and they both stood by him.

"Don't worry, Sammy. I'm not going anywhere," Dean tried to comfort his little brother. "I'm getting that thing before it gets me. It's some kind of spirit, but I could grab it. And if I can grab it, I can kill it."

Sam looked over to where Dean was, looking thoroughly confused. Why, Calypso had no clue.

She didn't have time to wonder before she heard a girl's yells echoing down the hallway.

"Can't you see me? Why won't you look at me?!"

Calypso turned to Dean with an exhausted sigh.

"We have to check that out, don't we," she asked, lacking enthusiasm. Dean nodded.

"It could be important," he told her.

"Of course we do," Calypso huffed, following Dean as he wandered the halls in search of the voice.

They came across the staircase Dean went down when he first woke up, and on it was the girl they were looking for. She was running from person to person, trying to get them to look at her, but nobody was. It was making her hysterical.

The woman had short black hair and pale skin, and wore the same clothes as Calypso. Calypso had to step back as a wave of something crashed over her. It made her perk up as if someone dumped iced water on top of her head. The feeling was the same one she would get when encountering ghosts, or something like them. It wasn't quite the same, but it was still very similar.

Calypso guessed that the woman was suspended in between life and death. That would explain why she sensed something odd about her. But it was only a guess, and not a very good one at that.

"Somebody talk to me!" the woman cried. "Say something, please!"

"Can you see me?" Dean asked while Calypso only tilted her head in confusion.

"Yeah," she said, sounding relieved.

"All right, just, uh, calm down," Dean told her.

"What's your name?" Calypso asked.

"Tessa," the woman replied.

"Alright, Tessa, I'm Calypso and this is Dean," she told Tessa.

"What's happening to me?" she asked, freaking out. "Am - am I dead?"

"I don't think so, but we might wanna double check," Calypso admitted. "Where's your room?"

Tessa lead Calypso and Dean to a hospital room in which Tessa's body laid, hooked up to tubes and beeping machines. Calypso took that as a good sign. Tessa was alive, at least. A woman sat next to Tessa's bed, holding her hand as she grieved. It was almost completely silent from the shock radiating off all three of them.

"I don't understand," Tessa whispered, overwhelmed as she watched the scene. "I just came in for an appendectomy."

"Well, I hate to bear bad news, but I think there were some complications," Dean told her.

Calypso shot him a dirty look. He could at least be nice to the girl that was probably dying.

"It's just a dream, that's all," Tessa tried to convince herself. "It's just a very weird, unbelievably vivid dream."

"It's not a dream," Calypso told her gently.

"Then what else could it be?" Tessa asked.

Calypso shrugged, turning to Dean. He usually had these answers. He had them this time, too.

"You ever heard of an out of body experience?" he asked Tessa.

"What are you, some new age-y guy?" she wondered.

"You see me messing with crystals or listening to Yanni?" Dean asked, offended.

"Who?" Calypso asked, interrupting him.

"Nobody, never mind," Dean waved the topic away. "Anyway, it's actually a very old idea. Got a lot of different names: Bilocation, crisis apparition, fetches... I think it's happening to us. And if it is, it means that we're spirits of people close to death."

"So we're going to die?" Tessa asked, frightened.

"No. Not if we hold on," Dean stated confidently. "Our bodies can get better, we can snap right back in there and wake up."

Calypso prayed that they could hold on for that long.

Tessa calmed down a lot after Dean explained what was going on, and was beginning to deal with the situation quite well. She told Dean and Calypso that what was going to happen would happen, and she could only wait. Dean disagreed, claiming that fate didn't exist, that you always have a choice. He was interrupted by an announcement, telling about a code blue. Calypso knew hospital terms pretty well. Someone was dying.

Dean and Calypso left Tessa behind as they ran down the hallway to the room number they had heard. They arrived to find the room in chaos. Doctors and nurses were running around in a frenzy as a little girl laid in the bed, flatlining.

The gray spirit was hovering above her.

As it reached a hand into her face, Calypso lunged forward. She wasn't about to let a little kid die.

"Get away from her!" Dean yelled at the spirit.

As Calypso was about to make contact with the spirit, it vanished. She barreled past where it was and turned around to try to find it again, even though she knew it was long gone. She had to try!

Behind her, the nurses stopped resuscitation.

"All right, let's call it," the male doctor told his group sadly.

"Time of death, five eleven p.m.," the woman doctor reported.

"At least she's not suffering anymore," a nurse said, trying to make a positive approach to the subject.

"No!" Calypso cried, her hands clasping her head in desperation. "Damn it!"

She looked over at Dean, who looked stunned. He finally seemed to focus and look up at Calypso, noticing how upset she looked.

"Callie, we couldn't have helped the girl," Dean told her.

"Why not?"

"Because she was already dead. Don't you understand? We're dealing with a reaper."

They went back to Dean's room that night to check on Sam. He wasn't there when they initially entered, but after a few minutes he entered the room quietly, clutching a brown paper bag in his arms.

"Hey," Sam greeted, his eyes looking around the room as if he was trying to spot Dean and Calypso. "I think maybe you two are around. And if you are, don't make fun of me for this, but um, well, there's one way we can talk."

Calypso watched curiously as Sam reached into his paper bag and pulled out a "mystical talking board."

She laughed, not expecting something so regularly seen to be used by the Winchesters. Seeing Dean's reaction, she roared even louder. His arms were folded, and he was looking at his brother in that "Really?" way. He seemed just as surprised as Calypso.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me," he muttered.

Sam didn't seem to be joking as he circled around the bed and settled down cross legged on the floor. He opened the box and pulled out the board. Calypso was curious. Would this really work?

"Dean?" Sam asked softly. "Callie? Are you here?"

"God, I feel like I'm at a slumber party," Dean joked as he sat opposite Sam in front of the board. Calypso sat down next to him to watch, and perhaps answer a few of her own questions. "All right, Sam. This isn't going to work."

"You never now," Calypso told him with a shrug. "It might."

Sam's hands were already poised on the pointer as Dean placed his fingers on it. He slowly slid it across the board to the "yes," written on it, concentrating. Calypso heard Sam gasp quietly, but she just smiled.

"I told you," Calypso began. "You never know.

"I'll be damned," Dean said to himself, surprised.

"It's good to hear from you, man," Sam laughed in relief. "I'm assuming it's you, Dean?" The pointer moved up to the yes again, after being moved down to the center. "Is Callie with you?" Yet again, it moved to yes. Sam smiled. "It hasn't been the same without you two."

"Damn straight," Dean told him confidently.

He placed his fingers back on the pointer and began sliding it.

"Dean, what? H? U?" he tried spelling out loud, before he got the word. "Hunt? Hunting? What, are you guys hunting?"

Dean slid the pointer back to "yes."

"It's in the hospital, what you're hunting?" Sam asked, wondering many things at once. "Do, do you know what it is?"

"Jeez, one at a time, Sam," Calypso told him with a smile.

"What is it?" Sam finally wondered.

Dean began sliding the pointer again as he spoke.

"I don't think it's killing people," he explained. R. E. "I think it's taking them." A. "You know, when their time's just up." P.

"A reaper," Sam realized. "Is it after you?" Dean slid the pointer to yes. "Damn it. Callie, too?" For once, Dean slid it to no. "Thank God. But Dean, if it's here naturally, there's no way to stop it."

"Yeah, you can't kill death," Dean agreed.

"Man, you're, um..."

"I'm screwed, Sam," Dean told him.

"No. No, no, no, um, there's gotta be a way." Sam stood, beginning to pace. "There's gotta be a way. Dad'll know what to do."

He left in a hurry, leaving Dean and Calypso to get up. She looked over at Dean, frowning.

"You're not screwed, Dean," Calypso told him. "I can order the reaper to stay away from you or something. Did you forget I can do that?"

"I don't know if that'll work in this situation," Dean admitted. "It might've only worked once or something, or you can't switch it on... If it works, great, but if it doesn't-"

Calypso's heart sunk. Dean was right.

"We're screwed."

Sam returned only a few minutes later, carrying his father's journal. John, however, was not present, much to Calypso's surprise. He sat down on the edge of Dean's bed.

"Hey," Sam greeted. "So Dad wasn't in his room..."

"Where is he?" Dean questioned.

"...But I got Dad's journal, so who knows? Maybe there's something here," Sam said optimistically, still not hearing Dean.

"Please," Calypso scoffed. "With our luck?"

Sam flipped open the journal and leafed through, trying to find the page on reapers. He glanced up at Dean's unconscious form every few seconds while Dean's spirit came to stand behind him. Calypso followed after a moment, curious.

"Thanks for not giving up on us, Sammy," Dean told his brother.

Calypso smiled. It was obvious that the two cared very much about each other, just as siblings should. They weren't just brothers, but best friends, their friendship still strengthening. She couldn't picture them apart, if she thought about it. It was always Sam AND Dean to her, not Sam OR Dean. They were brothers. They were HER brothers.

Sam turned to the page labeled reapers, and all three leaned over to read it, Dean and Calypso over Sam's shoulder. They read the sentence at the same time, two pairs of eyes going wide.

"Son of a bitch," Dean growled before he left, stalking down the hallway.

"Crap," Calypso muttered before starting after him. "Damn it. This isn't good."

Dean lead Calypso to the room that they both remembered was Tessa's, but when they got there, it was empty, save for the girl sitting on the edge of the well-made hospital bed. Calypso quickly noticed that she was dressed differently. Guess she had nothing to hide at this point, did she.

"Hi, Dean, Calypso," Tessa greeted calmly. Way too calmly, Calypso thought. Almost emotionlessly.

"You know, you read the most interesting things," Dean began, his voice rough with anger. "For example, did you know that reapers can alter human perception? I sure didn't. Basically they can make themselves appear however they want. Like, say, uh, a pretty girl. You are much prettier than the last reaper I met."

"Yeah, he was pretty bad..." Calypso muttered in agreement.

"I was wondering when you would figure it out," Tessa said in the same voice as before.

"I should have known. That whole 'accepting fate' rap of yours is far too laid back for a dead chick," Dean told her.

"What about the mother and body?" Calypso asked, curious. "I mean, clearly neither are really here."

"It's my sandbox, I can make you see whatever I want," Tessa explained.

"Wow, that's wonderful," Calypso said sarcastically.

She silently wondered if Tessa had done anything else while Calypso had been roaming the hospital. What had been real? What had been fake? It was getting confusing.

"What, is this like a turn-on for you?" Dean asked demanded. "Toying with me?"

"You didn't give me much choice," Tessa argued calmly. "You saw my true form and you flipped out. Kinda hurts a girl's feelings. This was the only way I could get you to talk to me."

"Okay, fine. We're talking," Dean growled. "What the hell do you want to talk about?"

Good question.

"How death is nothing to fear." Tessa touched Dean's cheek gently and lightly. Calypso watched with her eyes narrowed. If Tessa was going to hurt Dean, she wouldn't get far. "It's your time to go, Dean. And you're living on borrowed time already."

After the shock passed, Dean joined Calypso by the dark window, but he looked out while Calypso glared at Tessa. Dean wasn't going to die. Calypso wouldn't let anyone in her new family - her only family ever, really - die.

"Look, I'm sure you've heard this before, but... you've gotta make an exception, you've gotta cut me a break," Dean begged.

"Stage three: bargaining," Tessa commented.

"Ha ha, very funny," Calypso said dryly. "Just let Dean go, okay? Let him live, and go on your merry way." She pushed an unnatural fierceness into her voice, making the suggestion into an order. Hopefully, it would work.

"You're not strong enough to make me obey you," Tessa told Calypso. The teenager clenched her fists in frustration. What else could she do? "Even when you were healthy, you wouldn't have had enough power. Ordering us around takes an incredible amount of training."

"How come I was able to boss around that one reaper at the faith healer, then?" Calypso asked, her anger beginning to ebb away, honest curiosity taking its place.

"That was different," Tessa explained. "He was being commanded by someone you outranked. Unfortunately, you don't outrank my boss."

"And who would that be?" Dean asked.

"Nobody you've met," Tessa told them. "It's very complex, but I have to do everything he says." Getting back on track, she turned to Dean again. "You see, Dean, I cannot cut you a break. It is impossible."

"Please," Dean begged. Calypso looked away, disappointed that she couldn't help. "My family's in danger. See, we're kind of in the middle of this, um, war, and they need me."

"The fight's over," Tessa tried to convince him.

"No, it isn't," Dean protested.

"Pretty far from it, actually," Calypso agreed.

"It is for you. Dean. You're not the first soldier I've plucked from the field," Tessa admitted. "They all feel the same. They can't leave. Victory hangs in the balance. But they're wrong. The battle goes on without them."

"My brother. He could die without me," Dean explained. "Callie could be caught and tortured."

"If I wake up," Calypso added.

"You'll wake up," Tessa told her. "It might take a while to regain your strength, but you should be able to." She looked back at Dean, considering her answers. "And maybe they will, maybe they won't. Nothing you can do about it. It's an honorable death. A warrior's death."

"I think I'll pass on the seventy two virgins, thanks," Dean told the reaper sarcastically. Calypso rolled her eyes. "I'm not that into prude chicks anyway."

"Really, Dean?" Calypso complained.

"That's funny. You're very cute," Tessa said without emotion.

"There's no such thing as an honorable death," Dean argued. "My corpse is going to rot in the ground and my family is going to die!" He shook his head. "No. I'm not going with you, I don't care what you do."

"Well, like you said. There's always a choice. I can't make you come with me," Tessa agreed. "But you're not getting back in your body. And that's just facts. So yes, you can stay. You'll stay here for years. Disembodied, scared, and over the decades it'll probably drive you mad. Maybe you'll even get violent."

"What are you saying?" Dean asked.

"Dean. How do you think angry spirits are born?" Tessa replied. Calypso breathed in sharply. "They can't let go and they can't move on. And you're about to become one. The same thing you hunt."

"No," Calypso gasped.

Dean couldn't die. She wouldn't let him.

But she couldn't let this happen either.

"It's time to put the pain behind you," Tessa purred, stroking Dean's hair tenderly as he sat on the hospital bed next to her.

Calypso stood in front of the two, scared and conflicted. Maybe Dean did have to go. She didn't want him to, but maybe he had to. It would hurt him to stay. Calypso couldn't deal with that.

"Maybe you should go on..." Calypso told her brother softly, not able to look him in the eye. "I mean, I don't want you to, but... I don't want you stuck here, hurting, either." She swallowed, aware of the large lump in her throat. "You have to leave..."

Dean nodded, and Calypso finally made eye contact, tearing up. Dean was beginning to do the same.

"And go where?" Dean asked Tessa softly. Calypso looked at her feet sadly.

"Sorry," Tessa apologized. "I can't give away the big punchline." She stopped stroking his hair. "Moment of truth. No changing your mind later. So what's it going to be?"

As Dean was about to answer, the lights began to flicker. Calypso looked up quickly, breaking out of her despair, and heard a familiar buzzing noise start. Sadness was quickly changing into panic.

"What are you doing that for?" Dean asked, turning to Tessa. The two were now standing.

"I'm not doing it," she replied, confused and afraid.

The three turned to a vent in the floor as black smoke appeared in their peripheral vision. Demon smoke, Calypso recognized. She froze as it stayed still for a moment. Then it slowly surged forward.

"What the hell?" Dean asked.

"You can't do this!" Tessa cried, not so calm anymore. "Get away!"

"What's happening?!" Dean exclaimed.

The situation finally sunk in, and Calypso's eyes widened. She knew what would happen.

"Dean, get back!" she yelled.

At the same moment, Tessa screamed as the black smoke forced its way down her throat. Calypso and Dean both took a step back.

The screaming stopped abruptly, and Tessa turned to Dean.

She had yellow eyes.

"Today's your lucky day, kid," she told him in a low voice.

Tessa placed a hand on Dean's forehead as Calypso watched, horrified. He convulsed once, then disappeared.

Calypso was alone with the demon.

Calypso immediately backed into the corner of the room as the yellow eyed demon turned around. She desperately searched for a way around it, a way to escape, but there was nothing. A feeling of absolute fury took over as she looked at the demon. It sent Dean away to god knows where. It could've hurt him, and Calypso wasn't even able to do anything.

Accompanying the anger was terror. Dean wasn't here to help her face this thing down. She was alone. And somehow, that scared her even more than the demon itself. Sam and Dean always had her back. Now she had neither's help. Now she had to fight alone.

"Oh, no, don't worry," the demon told Calypso with a sly smile, taking slow steps toward her, one by one. She tried to sink into the wall behind her. "I'm not going to hurt you. That would go against the deal."

"What deal?" Calypso asked immediately. She found herself reaching for her knife, and realized that, of course, it wasn't there. Somehow, she still had it while she had been rescued by Sam and Dean. But John, while possessed, had taken it from her while she had been unconscious. She was fairly certain that Sam had it, now. But since he couldn't see her, she couldn't just ask for it. "What did you do?!"

"I did nothing," the demon claimed. It stopped only a couple feet away from her. "It was all John, really."

"What are you talking about?" she persisted. "And where did you send Dean?"

"Dean's fine," the demon told her with a wave of Tessa's hand. "He's awake now. You will be too, in a moment."

"How come I don't believe you?" she asked, straightening up, finding her confidence. Anger always did this to her.

"I'm telling the truth, actually," it claimed. Calypso couldn't look away from the yellow eyes. "As for the deal... Well, that was a surprise to me, too." The demon laughed. "John just couldn't stand having his children gone, so he summoned me."

"He did what?!" she gasped.

"Oh, I assure you that he didn't want to," the demon told her. "But grief makes people do things they wouldn't do usually. See, John offered up the Colt in exchange for Dean's life, and you waking up." Calypso shook her head in a frenzy. "But one tiny gun? That wasn't good enough for both of you. So I gave him a counteroffer. You both wake up... As long as I could take you afterwards."

If Calypso could have stepped back in shock, she would have.

"And he accepted?" she asked quietly, looking at the ground.

Her face burned. She had been stupid, thinking she could ever be accepted into the family. They would always choose each other over her. But that was okay. That's how it should be. In fact, Calypso was happy that John had his priorities straight for once. She wasn't his family. Dean was. It was a good decision.

"Quite the opposite, actually," the demon admitted after a moment. Calypso looked up, unsure if she had heard correctly.

"What?"

"He refused," it told her. "I kept insisting, and he kept saying no. He wouldn't do it. Not for anything. A shame, really. But we'll get you soon, anyway, so it didn't really matter." It smiled. "But John offered up something different. It almost made up for you."

"What did he do?" Calypso asked, horrified.

"John offered himself up. His own life," the demon explained.

"NO!" Calypso shrieked, covering her mouth in shock. She slowly sank to the ground, shaking.

John was so stupid! Why would he sacrifice himself for her safety? She would've live, if the demon had taken her! If John had really wanted, he could've rescued her after the deal was made, and they would've both been okay. But instead he was stupid. He threw his life away for nothing!

"The Colt also," the demon said, not helping. "His life was nowhere near yours, so he needed something a little bit... Extra."

"No," Calypso moaned, burying her face in her hands, but not letting herself shed any tears. Not in front of the demon.

"Yep." Calypso could almost hear the demon's smile on its voice. "So let me rephrase this. You're the reason that John is going to die."

She let out a sob, surrendering to her emotions, and felt moisture on her heads as she shook. By extension, she killed John. Oh god. John was dying. She killed him. Sam and Dean were losing their father because of her!

The demon watched in amusement for a few minutes, then looked at the time and sighed.

"You should probably go back now," the demon sighed. "Well, this has been fun. And unlike Dean, you're going to remember."

Calypso looked up, eyes red, as she felt a cool hand on her forehead.

"See you soon, Calypso," the demon said. It smiled.

And she woke up.

It was all a blur for the first few hours she was awake. Test after test, shot after shot... It was just all repeating. So she was relieved when a visitor was finally allowed in, even if it was the last person she wanted to see right then.

"Glad to see your eyes open," John told Calypso, sitting at the edge of her bed.

"Why did you do it?" she asked, not beating around the bush. She looked straight into his eyes.

"Do what?"

"Sell your soul to a demon in order to make Dean and me wake up!" she exclaimed, not able to contain it.

It was silent for a moment as both sat in shock.

"You weren't supposed to know that," John told her quietly, looking away.

"What, was that another part of the deal?" she jabbed.

"Calypso-"

"No, listen to me!" she ordered angrily. "You're gonna die, do you understand? Sam and Dean are going to have to bury you, or whatever hunter's traditionally do. Do you have any idea what that does to someone?" Emotion was overwhelmingly clear in her voice. "They won't be glad you saved Dean, they're going to hate themselves for not saving you! And how do you think they're gonna react when they find out you made a deal with the freaking yellow eyed demon?!"

"They're not going to find out," John insisted. "You're not telling them."

Calypso opened her mouth to argue, but John continued before she had the chance to interrupt. "It's better for everyone if they don't know."

"How?"

"Sam and Dean will think it was just a random attack, and won't blame themselves for it," John started, grasping at straws.

"They're not stupid, you know," Calypso told him. "They're going to find out eventually." John looked away. "You don't care if they find out, do you?" she realized in awe. "You just don't want them to know before you-"

She choked on the last word and had to look down at her hands despairingly.

"You're right," John admitted.

"Then fine, I won't tell them," she promised, regaining control. "Sam and Dean don't need to know. I'll let them find out on their own. But I won't lie. I can't lie to them."

John smiled sadly.

"Thank you."

It was quiet for a few seconds as the two thought about everything.

"Why didn't you let the demon take me?" Calypso asked quietly, her eyes tearing up. "Then everyone would've lived and been okay."

"I doubt you would've been okay," John pointed out. "Torture by demons is... Difficult to imagine."

"Trust me, I can imagine," Calypso told him. "I just meant... You know, I don't matter. Everyone who's needed would be okay."

"That's not true," John told her. She shrugged. Calypso didn't care what he thought. She knew that she was worthless. Other people's opinions didn't make a difference.

"I'm not worth your life," she whispered.

And she burst out crying.

It surprised even Calypso, the sudden sobs. She curled up, her knees against her chest, and buried her face into the scratchy hospital sheets.

"What am I gonna do?" she asked, her voice cracking. "It's all my fault."

"No it's not," John told her awkwardly. He didn't have too much experience with crying teenage girls. "How is this your fault?"

"How is this not?" she cried, looking up slightly. "Everything is! Everyone I get close to... This always happens!"

"This isn't your fault," John protested. "This is all mine. It was my decision, and I have to pay for it." She shook her head sadly and John got up. "I filled out the papers and stuff for you. You can leave whenever you want."

Calypso nodded slowly and got out of her bed, tears still pouring down her face. She was very stiff and sore, but it was nothing she couldn't handle. As she walked by John to get to the door to find a bathroom so she could clean up before seeing Sam and Dean, he called after her.

"Calypso," he said. She stopped and looked back to see him, his eyes watering. John looked at her with a spark of pride in his eyes. "You know, I've always wanted a daughter."

That was all it took for Calypso to run back to him, salty tears on her lips, and wrap her arms around his stomach. John hesitated for a moment, but only a moment, before hugging Calypso in return.

"Please don't go," she whimpered.

John pulled back and looked into Calypso's teary violet eyes.

"Look after Sam and Dean, okay?" John asked. She nodded.

"Of course."

John's gaze switched to her uncovered arm. "And take care of yourself, too."

Calypso looked down at her scars as well and told the biggest lie she would ever utter.

"I will."

John left Calypso in her room to go check up on Dean. Calypso, in the meantime, locked herself in the bathroom, trying to control herself. As John walked, he knew that as soon as he talked to Dean, he would drop dead, but he didn't care. He needed to see his son.

So he did.

"How you feeling, Dean?" he asked, standing in the doorway.

"Fine, I guess. I'm alive," Dean replied. "How's Callie?"

"She's fine," John assured him. "She's up and moving around. Should be stopping by soon, I think."

Dean nodded, relieved.

"Where were you last night?" Sam asked angrily.

None of them heard Calypso as she leaned against the wall next to the door, eavesdropping on their conversation. She couldn't bring herself to go in yet. She knew she wouldn't be able to handle herself.

"I had some things to take care of," John told him truthfully.

Calypso bit back a sob in the hallway, but a tear still rolled down her cheek. She brushed it away thoughtlessly.

"Well, that's specific," Sam said sarcastically.

"Come on, Sam," Dean complained.

Couldn't Sam just let it go? It was the last time he would see his father, and he was spending it arguing with him. It made Calypso almost angry.

"Did you go after the demon?" Sam persisted.

"No," John told him.

No, he only made a deal with it.

"You know, why don't I believe you right now?" Sam asked his father.

"Can we not fight?" John pleaded. "You know, half the time we're fighting, I don't know what we're fighting about. We're just butting heads. Sammy, I - I've made some mistakes. But I've always done the best I could. I just don't want to fight anymore, okay?"

That was unusual for the Winchester family.

"Dad, are you all right?" Sam asked, concerned.

"Yeah," John lied. "Yeah, I'm just a little tired. Hey, son, would you, uh, would you mind getting me a cup of caffeine?"

"Man, coffee does sound good, doesn't it," Calypso said, finally coming into the room.

"Callie!" Sam and Dean exclaimed at the Sam time.

She waved in a small "hey," gesture.

"You feeling okay?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, I'm feeling good," she lied. "Bit tired, but other than that..."

"Maybe we should get that coffee, then," Sam suggested.

Calypso nodded in agreement, not trusting herself to be able to speak.

She looked over at John and Dean, and her eyes began to water.

"I'll see you in a bit," she told them, looking at John.

He smiled sadly at her and she tried to do the same, but it was too hard to keep the act up. The smile melted away, and she stared at John for a moment, her eyes showing all the emotion she had been hiding for the past few minutes. She couldn't do that in front of Sam and Dean, though. She already said goodbye. She had to let him go.

Calypso turned around quickly, her hair whipping around behind her, and quickly walked off. Sam followed closely behind her.

"Do you remember anything from while you were out?" he asked.

Calypso shook her head quickly.

"No, just headlights, then waking up," she lied.

"Dean said the same thing," Sam told her, disappointed.

Calypso shrugged and looked away.

"Sorry."

Back in the room, John was staring after Calypso and Sam sadly.

"What is it?" Dean demanded, frightened by his father's odd behavior.

"You know, when you were a kid, I'd come home from a hunt, and after what I'd seen, I'd be, I'd be wrecked," John reminisced. "And you, you'd come up to me and you, you'd put your hand on my shoulder and you'd look me in the eye and you'd - You'd say 'It's okay, Dad.'" He paused. "Dean, I'm sorry."

"What?" Dean asked, wondering if he heard right.

"You shouldn't have had to say that to me, I should have been saying that to you," John told him emotionally. "You know, I put - I put too much on your shoulders, I made you grow up too fast. You took care of Sammy, you took care of me. You even took care of Calypso when she came along. You did that, and you didn't complain, not once. I just want you to know that I am so proud of you."

"This really you talking?" Dean asked, remembering the last time his father told him he was proud. It hadn't ended well.

"Yeah," John told him softly. "Yeah, it's really me."

"Why are you saying this stuff?" Dean wondered, scared.

John came closer and put a hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean just sat in total confusion.

"I need to tell you something about Calypso," he said quietly.

"What?" Dean wanted to know.

"It has to do with her past," John began. "Dean, you have to protect her."

"From who?" Dean asked, alert.

"From herself," John told him. "I'm worried she might go back."

"To her old life?" Dean wondered. "Why would you worry about that?"

"She was abused, Dean."

Dean sat in stunned silence for a moment.

"What? How..." he began, trailing off. "How did you find out?"

"She told me," John admitted. "But she doesn't think its abuse. She's convinced that she's the one at fault. That's why I'm worried she might go back."

"To her father?" Dean asked angrily. He would kill the man himself. "He's the one who abused her?"

John nodded.

"I'm not saying you should talk to her about this, because she might get upset," John told his son. "All I'm saying is that you need to keep an eye on her. Make sure she stays with you."

"Of course," Dean agreed. "I won't... She'll be fine."

"And make sure she stops self-harming, too, okay?"

Dean nodded, cringing.

A question arose in his mind. Why was John asking him all this?

"Yeah, of course."

John looked at the clock. It was almost time. He looked back at Dean again.

"I want you to watch out for Sammy, okay?" he added.

"Yeah, dad, you know I will," Dean agreed, frightened. Why was his dad saying all this? "You're scaring me."

"Don't be scared, Dean."

He leaned over and whispered something into Dean's ear quietly. Whatever it was, it made Dean pull back in shock, processing what was just said.

And John left, not saying a goodbye, leaving Dean staring after him.

Sam and Calypso were walking back to Dean's room, carrying two coffee cups, when they found him. He was lying on the floor in an empty hospital room, and Calypso sensed that he was dead immediately.

"Dad?" Sam gasped as Calypso let go of her coffee cup and screamed, a heart wrenching sound. She fell to the ground in shock, hands covering her mouth. It couldn't be happening. It was just another nightmare. There was a wetness on her shoes as Sam dropped the coffee cup he was holding, and ran forward by his father, screaming for help.

Oh god, what was Calypso gonna do?!

It was a blur of doctors and nurses in the hospital room, once again attempting resuscitation, but on John this time. Calypso was standing in the doorway with Sam and Dean, sobbing her heart out. This wouldn't work, and she knew it. John was already gone.

A nurse appeared in front of the three and tried to push them out of the room and close the door, but they wouldn't let her.

"No, no, no, it's our dad," Dean tried to explain. "It's our dad!" His voice started again in a pleading tone. "Come on."

"Okay, stop compressions," a doctor ordered.

Calypso looked away, shaking. She couldn't watch.

"Come on, come on," Dean begged next to her.

"Still no pulse."

"Okay, that's it everybody."

"I'll call it," a doctor volunteered.

"Time of death: 10:41 am."


	15. Chapter 15

Calypso still didn't understand. Even as she watched John Winchester's wrapped body go up in flames, it wasn't sinking in that he was gone forever. She may have known him for only a little bit of her life, but he had watched over her since she was born, unseen. And now he was gone.

The only light that shone on Sam, Dean, and Calypso came from John's funeral pyre. Calypso stood a little off to the side, uncomfortable, and looked at Sam and Dean for a moment. Sam was fidgeting, near tears, while Dean just stared into the flames wordlessly. Calypso herself had already cried enough for the day, even before they burned John's body. All that was left was the shell she entered whenever someone close to her died. It comforted her.

"Before he..." Sam began to ask Dean, trailing off to avoid the dreaded word. "Before, did he say anything to you? About anything?"

"No," Dean replied, not looking at his brother. "Nothing."

Calypso looked at the ground, ashamed. How could she keep what happened from Sam and Dean?

But it was John's dying wish, so she would do everything she could to obey it.

A week later, the trio were still recovering at Bobby's. Calypso had finally met the man that she'd heard so much about, but she hadn't said anything, locking herself away. Bobby had been concerned, but said nothing. He hadn't really known her, after all. Still, he had kept an eye on her, to make sure the young girl was okay.

Calypso was now trying to keep herself busy, but wasn't doing too well. She experimented in cooking, but half the things she made were inedible. In fact, she thought they were full on poisonous. The few things that she could cook well included pasta and soup, but she continually burned any meat. Eventually, she just gave up on it. Cooking clearly wasn't her thing.

Next she attempted to draw. Calypso started out small, but knew she couldn't do it. Even a square that she drew would turn into a blob of colored pencil. So she looked into writing, but it became clear immediately that she wasn't descriptive enough for it. That was abandoned after two hours.

Calypso then gave up on distractions. No matter what she did, the memories would continually flood her brain until she was overwhelmed. The only true escape to her was cutting, though she knew it wasn't the healthiest way of dealing. But she wasn't going to talk with someone about her feelings. Calypso wouldn't let herself start drinking, either. It reminded her too much of the bad days of her old house. She wasn't going to ever drink, even when it became legal for her to do so.

One day she wandered around aimlessly outside when she stopped by Dean, working on the impala as always. Calypso stood there next to him without saying a word. She hadn't since she got back from the funeral.

Dean didn't see her as he worked underneath the car, only his legs sticking out. It looked much better than before, though it was still little more than a rusted frame. It was less crushed.

Then Sam approached.

"How's the car coming along?"

"Slow," Dean replied simply.

"Yeah? Need any help?" Sam offered.

If Calypso was happier, she would have laughed. Dean never let anyone touch his precious impala, much less try to fix it.

There was a clunk as Dean dropped something heavy.

"What, you under a hood?" Dean joked. "I'll pass."

"Need anything else, then?" Sam asked. "And you, Callie?"

She shook her head, looking at the ground mutely.

Dean pushed himself out from under the car and stood, slightly pissed off.

"Stop it, Sam," he ordered.

"Stop what?"

"Stop asking if I need anything, stop asking if I'm okay," Dean elaborated. "I'm okay. Really. I promise."

"All right, Dean, it's just..." Sam began hesitantly. "We've been at Bobby's for over a week now and you haven't brought up Dad once. Callie hasn't spoken, either."

Calypso shrugged, not caring. She was in her nice, warm shell. She was fine. She liked where she was at.

"You know what? You're right. Come here," Dean said sarcastically, tilting his head. "I'm gonna lay my head gently on your shoulder. Maybe we can cry, hug, and maybe even slow dance."

Ha, ha. Very funny.

"Don't patronize me, Dean," Sam told his brother angrily. "Dad is dead, the Colt is gone, and it seems pretty damn likely that the demon is behind all of this, and you're acting like nothing happened."

"What do you want me to say?" Dean asked defensively.

"Say something, all right?" Sam suggested. "This goes for you, too, Callie." She shrugged indifferently. She didn't want to say anything on that subject. It was painful. "Hell, say anything! Aren't you guys angry? Don't you want revenge? But Dean, all you do is sit out here all day long buried underneath this damn car, and Callie, you aren't even speaking at all."

"Revenge, huh?" Dean repeated while Calypso looked away, ashamed. She was letting Sam down, but couldn't bring herself to do anything about it. Calypso couldn't bear thinking about John or his death. She couldn't bear thinking of what she had to keep from Sam and Dean.

"Yeah."

"Sounds good," he agreed. "You got any leads on where the demon is? Making heads or tails of any of Dad's research? Because I sure ain't. But you know, if we do finally find it - oh. No, wait, like you said. The Colt's gone. But I'm sure you've figured out another way to kill it. We've got nothing, Sam. Nothing, okay? So you know the only thing I can do, is I can work on the car."

Dean crouched down by the car again, getting back to work. Calypso blew the hair out of her eyes and turned to go back inside, but the conversation continued.

She stopped and listened to the things being said behind her.

"Well, we've got something, all right?" Sam told Dean and Calypso. He pulled out an unfamiliar cell phone, but the Winchesters owned so many, it was hard for Calypso to tell if it was one of theirs. "It's what I came by here to tell you. This is one of dad's old phones. Took me a while, but I cracked his voicemail code. Listen to this."

Calypso turned around and marched back to the pair as Sam held the phone out to his brother. Dean stood and took it, then crouched down and put the phone between him and Calypso when he realized she wanted to hear.

"John, it's Ellen," an unfamiliar woman's voice said. "Again. Look, don't be stubborn, you know I can help you. Call me."

"That message is four months old," Sam told them, taking the phone back.

So? Calypso wondered silently.

"Dad saved that chick's message for four months?" Dean asked, surprised.

"Yeah."

"Well, who's Ellen? Any mention of her in Dad's journal?"

"No. But I ran a trace on her phone number and I got an address."

"Ask Bobby if we can use one of his cars."

Calypso didn't argue, though she didn't want to go. She stayed silent, convinced that she would tell the Winchesters everything she knew that they didn't as soon as her mouth opened. She couldn't do that, no matter how much she wanted to get the weight off her shoulders. Calypso wanted to be done with it.

Calypso wanted to be done with everything.

It turned out that they drove a beat up minivan to where this Ellen woman was, a place called the Roadhouse Saloon. Dean had been complaining the entire time and didn't stop, not even when the car was parked, annoying both Sam and Calypso.

"This is humiliating," he said as they got out of the car. "I feel like a friggin' soccer mom!"

"It's the only car Bobby had running," Sam reminded him. The three began to look around. "Hello? Anybody there?"

"Hey. You bring the, uh-" Dean began.

"Of course," Sam reassured him, tossing a folder of information on the demon to

Dean, who caught it easily.

Calypso followed the Winchesters inside. There was nothing strange about the bar, as far as she could tell. It was quiet, save for the buzzing of a fly. A light bulb blew out as she passed it. It was an average side of the road saloon.

The three went to the back of the space only to find a man passed out on the bar. Calypso rolled her eyes and walked back the way she came. Disgusting.

"Hey, buddy?" Sam asked. He paused, waiting for an answer. For obvious reasons, it didn't come. "I'm guessing that isn't Ellen."

Calypso heard a faint reply from Dean, but everything was becoming much quieter as she retraced her footsteps to the entrance, then to the other side of the bar. There wasn't anything there, either.

"Sam! Callie!" Dean called out suddenly. She sighed. What did he do now? "Need some help in here!"

Calypso jogged back to where Dean's voice sounded, and peered around the corner.

Calypso was amused by the sight she saw, Dean with a rifle against his back, held by a pretty blonde girl, and Sam, both hands on his head. It took a moment for Calypso to see the woman Sam was blocking, holding a handgun to his head.

"Sorry, Dean, I can't right now. I'm a... little tied up," Sam told Dean sarcastically.

"Then damn it, where's Callie?" Dean muttered.

Shaking her head slowly, with a slight smile on her face, Calypso rounded the corner.

"Guess that answers your question, doesn't it, Dean?" Sam said.

"Sam? Dean? Winchester?" Ellen asked, surprised.

Sam and Dean agreed.

"And I guess you must be Calypso," the woman said, turning to the girl. She nodded in confirmation, the brief smile long gone. "Son of a bitch."

"Mom, you know these guys?" the blonde girl asked.

"Yeah, I think these are John Winchester's boys. And girl," she added hastily. She lowered her gun with a laugh. "Hey, I'm Ellen. This is my daughter Jo."

Jo lowered her rifle immediately after her mother and Dean smiled at her.

"Hey," she greeted him awkwardly. After all, what does someone say to a person they just held a rifle against?

"You're not gonna hit me again, are you?" Dean asked anxiously.

Calypso sighed.

A few minutes later, Dean held a small towel filled with ice up to his face. Ellen gave it to him.

"Thanks," Dean said. "You called our dad, said you could help. Help with what?"

"Well, the demon, of course," Ellen replied. "I heard he was closing in on it."

"What, was there an article in the Demon Hunters Quarterly that I missed?" Dean asked, worked up. "I mean, who, who are you? How do you know about all this?"

"Dean," Calypso said quietly, hoping to calm him down. It was the first words she had spoken since John died.

Sam and Dean looked at her, confused but glad. One word was a start at least. She would get better.

"Hey, I just run a saloon," Ellen claimed. "But hunters have been known to pass through now and again. Including your dad a long time ago. John was like family once."

"Oh yeah? How come he never mentioned you before?" Dean asked, slightly less angry.

"You'd have to ask him that."

Calypso and Dean shared a glance, but knew they couldn't tell Ellen quite yet.

"So why exactly do we need your help?" Dean asked after a quick moment.

"Hey, don't do me any favors," Ellen said defensively. "Look, if you don't want my help, fine. Don't let the door smack your ass on the way out. But John wouldn't have sent you if..." She stopped. Calypso and Dean looked at each other again, knowing she realized. "He didn't send you." Dean looked down for a moment, then at Sam, who shared the same look as Dean and Calypso. "He's all right, isn't he?"

"No. No, he isn't," Sam said for the others as Calypso looked away. "It was the demon, we think. It, um, it just got him before he got it, I guess."

"I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. We're all right," Dean claimed.

Well, it was evident that not everyone in the group of three were as Ellen looked over at Calypso.

"Really?" she asked, concerned. "I know how close you and your dad were."

"Really, lady, I'm fine," Dean told her, getting angry again.

"So look, if you can help, we could use all the help we can get," Sam said.

"Well, we can't. But Ash will," Ellen claimed.

"Who's Ash?"

It turned out that Ash was the man lying unconscious on the bar. Jo claimed that he was a genius, but Dean seemed unsure. However, when they gave Ash the folder of information on the demon, he figured out how to track it, using its signs or omens. All he said he needed to do it was fifty one hours exactly.

So they went off on another hunt involving clowns and children that they resolved before coming back to ask Ash.

Ash couldn't find where the demon was immediately, but he promised that he would be able to track it down as soon as signs popped up, and would call them. It was the best option, so Sam, Dean, and Calypso went on yet another hunt.

The newly finished impala zoomed its way up the straight and narrow road, driven by an ecstatic Dean.

"Whoo! Listen to her purr!" Dean exclaimed. Have you ever heard anything so sweet?"

"You know, if you two wanna get a room, just let me know, Dean," Sam joked.

"Oh, don't listen to him, baby," Dean told the impala. "He doesn't understand us."

Calypso grinned in the backseat. She was getting better and speaking more, much to the relief of the Winchester brothers. Dean hadn't told Sam what his father revealed about Calypso, and didn't plan to for a while. He didn't want to. Dean frankly didn't want to think about it, ever. He would watch over Calypso, but he wouldn't ever talk about what happened, unless she told him first.

Sam laughed.

"You're in a good mood," he commented.

"Why shouldn't I be?"

"No reason."

"Got my car, got a case, things are looking up."

"I never knew people could get so excited over a couple severed heads and a bunch of dead cows," Calypso said from the backseat behind Dean.

Dean laughed.

"How far to Red Lodge?" he asked Sam.

"Uh, about another three hundred miles," his brother replied, looking at the map.

"Good."

Dean floored it and the car shot forward.

After an uneventful interview with the Sheriff, the three went to the morgue.

They paused when they saw the intern on duty, but Dean quickly took care of it.

"John," Dean said, guessing based on the guy's name tag.

"Jeff," he corrected with a smile.

"Jeff. I knew that," Dean claimed. "Dr. Dworkin needs to see you in his office right away."

"But Dr. Dworkin's on vacation."

"Well, he's back. And he's pissed, and he's screaming for you, man, so if I were you I would..." Dean whistled and the intern ran away.

"There's no need to give the poor guy a panic attack," Calypso said, feeling bad for the man.

"Sorry, couldn't think of anything else," Dean claimed. He turned to Sam. "Hey, those Satanists in Florida, they marked their victims, didn't they?"

"Yeah, reversed pentacle on the forehead," Sam remembered.

"Yeah. So much f'd up crap happens in Florida," Dean muttered. He handed Sam and Calypso a pair of gloves each and put on a pair of his own. Sam opened a compartment in the wall and wheeled out a corpse. There was a box in between its legs. Calypso knew it was for the head. "All right, open it."

"You open it," Sam told his brother. Calypso smiled.

"Wuss," Dean said. He carried the box over to a table and flipped off the lid with a grimace. Sam and Calypso then approached, Sam cringing.

"Well, no pentagram," Dean pointed out.

"Wow. Poor girl," Sam said.

"Yeah," Calypso agreed. "What a shame."

"Maybe we should, uh, you know, look in her mouth, see if those wackos stuffed anything down her throat. You know, kinda like the moth in Silence of the Lambs," Dean suggested.

"I've never seen that movie," Calypso said to nobody in particular.

"You really missed out," Dean told her. "So, uh, yeah, we should probably check her mouth."

"Yeah, here, go ahead," Sam said, pushing the box to Dean.

"No, you go ahead," Dean copied, pushing it back to his brother.

Calypso reached over the two and pulled the container over to herself.

"Wimps," she told the two, reaching up and pulling her hair out of her face. She began poking at the girl's mouth, expressionless. "Well, there's nothing stuffed in the throat... Wait a second, what's this?"

"You find something?" Dean asked eagerly.

"No, I'm just saying that to listen to the sound of my own voice," she replied sarcastically. "It's a hole in the gum. I wonder what it's-" She pressed down on it and gasped. "Well, this changes things."

"What?" Sam asked. "What is it?"

"It's a fang," she said, looking at the narrow, sharp, tooth. "A retractable vampire fang. An entire set of them, actually. Wonderful."

"You've gotta be kidding me," Dean muttered.

Calypso took her hands out of the mouth and placed them by her side. She hated these things.

Of course they would pop up.

They went to a local bar that night to ask about possible vampire activity. The person they asked happened to be the unfriendly bartender.

"How's it going?" Dean asked the man.

"Living the dream," the bartender replied. "What can I get for you?"

"You want anything?" Dean asked Calypso. She shook her head. "Two beers, please."

"So, we're looking for some people," Sam explained, getting on track.

"Sure. Hard to be lonely," the bartender said. He checked Calypso out. "But judging by the looks of her, I bet you two have plenty of fun." Both Sam and Dean's mouths dropped open and they clenched their fists. The bartender smiled slimily and, before Dean could say anything, he continued speaking. "You sure I can't do anything for you, sweetheart?"

Calypso smiled right back.

"You can stay still as I stab you in the neck," she told him sweetly, still smiling.

Everyone stared at her for a moment, but the smile never left Calypso's face.

"Whoa, okay," Dean said, pulling Calypso back. "That's good, Callie."

The bartender glared at her and was about to turn around when Sam spoke.

"Wait. So, um, that's not what I meant," Sam told the bartender. He pulled out a $50 bill and dropped it on the bar. The bartender stared at it for a moment, then took it. "Right. So these, these people, they would have moved here about six months ago, probably pretty rowdy, like to drink..."

"Yeah, real night owls, you know?" Dean helped explain. "Sleep all day, party all night."

"Barker farm got leased out a couple months ago," the bartender said. "Real winners. They've been in here a lot - drinkers. Noisy. I've had to 86 them once or twice."

"Thanks."

Sam and Dean left their half-finished beers on the bar and left with Calypso following. All three knew they were being followed by a man in the bar, so they went down the alley in hopes of confronting the man. They hid as he came down the alley and lost sight of them. He turned around a couple times to look, and they came out just as he turned again. Sam and Dean pinned him to the wall, Dean holding a knife to his throat.

"Smile," Dean growled.

"What?" the man asked.

"Show us those pearly whites," Dean ordered.

"That really doesn't sound very threatening," Calypso muttered, her arms crossed.

"Oh, for the love of - you want to stick that thing someplace else? I'm not a vampire," the man told them. Calypso raised an eyebrow as Sam frowned. "Yeah, that's right. I heard you guys in there."

"What do you know about vampires?" Sam asked him.

"How to kill them. Now seriously, bro. That knife's making me itch." Dean cocked his head and the man started to pull away, but Sam shoved him back. "Whoa. Easy there, Chachi." He slowly brought his right hand to his lip and pulled it up, showing normal gums. "See? Fangless. Happy?" Sam and Dean let up. "Now. Who the hell are you?"

It turned out the man was named Gordon Walker and he was a hunter. Sam, Dean and Calypso introduced themselves and Gordon brought them to his car. He pulled out his arsenal from a compartment in the backseat to show them.

"Sam and Dean Winchester and the famous Calypso," Gordon said, shaking his head. "I can't believe it. You know I met your old man once? Hell of a guy. Great hunter. I heard he passed. I'm sorry. It's big shoes. But from what I hear you guys fill 'em. Great trackers, good in a tight spot-"

"You seem to know a lot about our family," Dean interrupted while Calypso frowned. She was famous? How?

"Word travels fast," Gordon explained. "You know how hunters talk."

"No, we don't, actually."

"I guess there's a lot your dad never told you, huh?"

"So, um, so those two vampires, they were yours, huh?" Sam asked.

"Yep. Been here two weeks," Gordon replied.

"Did you check out that farm thing?" Calypso asked. "Barker, I think."

"It's a bust. Just a bunch of hippie freaks. Though they could kill you with that patchouli smell alone."

Calypso frowned.

"Then where's the nest?" she asked.

"I got this one covered," Gordon said after a moment. "Look, don't get me wrong. It's a real pleasure meetin' you fellas. But I've been on this thing over a year. I killed a fang back in Austin, tracked the nest all the way up here. I'll finish it."

"We could help," Dean insisted.

"Thanks, but uh, I'm kind of a go-it-alone type of guy," Gordon claimed.

"Come on, man, I've been itching for a hunt."

"Sorry. But hey, I hear there's a Chupacabra two states over. You go ahead and knock yourselves out." He got in his car and spoke to them out the window. "It was real good meeting you, though. I'll buy you a drink on the flip side."

He drove off, but the three knew they weren't gonna give up on this hunt.

They followed Gordon to a warehouse, getting inside just as the man was pinned below an electric saw, about to get decapitated by a vampire.

Sam quickly pulled Gordon to safety while Calypso and Dean confronted the vampire. Calypso got near to it and tried to launch herself so that she could knock it down, but it batted her away, off the roof. She hit the ground hard, but sat up, groaning, as soon as the pain began to ebb away.

Back on the roof, Dean pinned the vampire under the electric saw and lowered it, decapitating the vampire. He was sprayed with its blood in the process. Sam and Dean both ran over to the edge of the roof and peered down into darkness.

"You okay, Callie?" Dean asked.

There was a moment while Calypso regained her breath on the ground a couple stories below.

"Just Peachy," she called up, breathing heavily.

"How did she-" Gordon began to ask, stunned. He shook his head to clear it. With all the rumors flying around about the girl, he wasn't surprised. "So uh, I guess I gotta buy you that drink."

They went back to the bar to socialize a bit afterwards, Calypso wincing every now and then from bruises. She was lucky she didn't break anything this time. When the waitress came to get their order, Calypso didn't order anything.

"You sure you don't want anything?" Gordon asked. She shook her head.

"I don't drink," she explained.

"Why not?"

"One, I'm still a teenager and two, personal reasons," she told him. He shrugged.

When the waitress came back with their order, Gordon insisted on paying. After she went away, he raised his shot glass.

"Another one bites the dust," Gordon said.

"That's right," Dean agreed.

The two drank a toast while Sam sat back, his arms folded.

"Dean." Gordon laughed. "You gave that big-ass fang one hell of a haircut, my friend."

"Thank you."

"That was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful."

Calypso shook her head, disgusted. How could someone call death beautiful? Sure, the thing might not have been human, but it had still been alive. How was death something to celebrate?

"Yep," Dean agreed. He realized that his brother wasn't participating. "You all right, Sammy?

"I'm fine," Sam claimed.

"Well, lighten up a little, Sammy," Gordon told him.

"He's the only one who gets to call me that," Sam said sharply.

"Okay. No offense meant. Just celebrating a little. Job well done."

"Please explain how decapitations are something to celebrate," Calypso said quietly.

"Oh, come one, it's not like it was human," Gordon told her. She looked away, feeling nauseous. Neither was she. "You've gotta have a little more fun with your job."

"See? That's what I've been trying to tell them," Dean said with a smile. "You two could learn a thing or two from this guy."

"Yeah I bet I could," Sam said. He got up. "Look, I'm not gonna bring you guys down. I'm just gonna go back to the motel."

"You sure?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. You coming, Callie?"

"No thanks. I think I'll stay for a couple minutes."

He nodded and turned to leave.

"Sammy?" Dean called after him. Sam turned around. "Remind me to beat that buzzkill out of you later, all right?" He tossed Sam the keys and he left.

"Something I said?" Gordon asked, confused.

"Nah, nah, he just gets that way sometimes," Dean said dismissively. "Tell you what. Match you quarters for the next round."

It didn't take long for the subject to change and Calypso became more comfortable. She listened as Dean and Gordon exchanged stories.

"...So, I pick up this crossbow. And I hit that ugly sucker with a silver-tipped arrow right in his heart," Dean says, telling a story of a werewolf he took down as a kid. "Sammy's waiting in the car, and uh, me and my dad take the thing into the woods, burn it to a crisp. I'm sitting there and looking into the fire, and I'm thinking to myself, I'm sixteen years old. Most kids my age are worried about pimples, prom dates. I'm seeing things that they'll never even know. Never even dream of. So right then, I just sort of-"

"Embraced the life?" Gordon asked.

"Yeah," Dean said. "'Course, Callie kinda embraced it at a younger age."

"Only a year, Dean, that's not much," she told him.

"How did you get started?" Gordon asked.

"Vampires, actually," she told him. She didn't really trust Gordon, but figured this story wouldn't hurt. "They tried to get me, I ended up getting them. Killed one while handcuffed in the car."

"Sorry," Dean muttered.

"Yeah, I'm not letting that one go. Ever. So, after I unlocked myself and got in the building, I happened to be right above the head vampire in a ceiling vent, and figured what the hell, why not drop this thing on it. So I did. That was kinda fun." She looked over at Dean and smiled. "Saved their asses along the way, of course. Kinda stuck with them ever since."

"Huh, nice," Gordon commented, impressed.

"Yeah. How'd you get started?" Dean asked.

"First time I saw a vampire I was barely eighteen. Home alone with my sister," Gordon began. "I hear the window break in her room. I grab my dad's gun, run in, try to get it off her. Too late. So I shoot the damn thing. Which of course is about as useful as snapping it with a rubber band. It rushes me, picks me up, flings me across the room, knocks me out cold. When I wake up, the vampire's gone, my sister's gone."

"And then?" Dean asked, intrigued.

"Then... try explaining that one to your family. So I left home. And then bummed around looking for information: how you track 'em, how you kill 'em. And I found that fang - it was my first kill."

"Sorry about your sister," Dean said.

"Yeah. She was beautiful. I can still see her, you know?" Gordon said sadly. "The way she was. But hey, that was a long time ago. I mean, your dad. It's gotta be rough."

Uh oh.

"I should go back to the motel," Calypso suddenly said, standing up.

"You don't have a car," Dean pointed out.

"I know," Calypso told him over her shoulder as she stepped out the door. "I'm gonna walk."

The door slammed behind her.

"Did I say something?" Gordon asked.

"She's a little sensitive to the whole thing. I don't really know why," Dean explained. "She's not doing too well. Kinda broke down for a while. Didn't talk for weeks."

"Poor thing," Gordon commented, looking at the door she left through. "I really am sorry. You all must be taking it pretty hard."

"Yeah," Dean admitted. "Yeah, you know. He was just one of those guys. Took some terrible beatings, just kept coming. So you're always thinking to yourself, he's indestructible. He'll always be around, nothing can kill my dad. Then just like that-" He snapped his fingers. "-he's gone. I can't talk about this to Callie or Sammy. You know, I gotta keep my game face on." He cleared his throat. "But, uh, the truth is I'm not handling it very well. Feel like I have this-"

"Hole inside you?" Gordon finished for him. "And it just gets bigger and bigger and darker and darker? Good. You can use it. Keeps you hungry. Trust me. There's plenty out there needs killing, and this'll help you do it. Dean, it's not a crime to need your job."

Calypso ran into Sam on her way back, both of them about to enter the motel at the same time. He quickly explained to her that he didn't think the vampires were killing people, that he had been to the nest and they let him go without a scratch. Calypso might have been crazy, but she believed him.

They went inside to tell Dean.

"Where you been?" Dean asked his brother. He looked over at Calypso. "And what took you so long?"

She muttered something about a stop she had to make to pick up some things she needed. Really needed. It wasn't stuff she would let Sam or Dean pick up for her, that's for sure.

"Can I talk to you alone?" Sam asked Dean. He gave Calypso the look telling her to stay in the motel. She already knew what was going on and someone had to watch Gordon.

"You mind chillin' out for a couple minutes?" Dean asked Gordon.

"Yeah, sure," he replied.

Sam and Dean went outside, leaving Calypso and Gordon alone.

"You know, I never really believed the rumors about you, floating around," Gordon said out of the blue.

"What rumors?" Calypso asked.

"The ones claiming that you can't die," he explained. "But then, after tonight, when you fell off that roof and barely even got bruised, well... That changed my mind."

"Yeah, that tends to happen."

She turned to look out the window.

"The thing is, humans die," Gordon continued. "Humans die too easily. So you can't be human."

"What are you-" Calypso began, turning around. Gordon shoved her against the wall and put his hand over her mouth. Suddenly terrified, she struggled, but she couldn't break his grip.

"So the question is," Gordon continued calmly. "What are you? And can I maybe find the right weapon that will kill you?"

Calypso was just able to widen her eyes and let out a tiny whimper before Gordon hit her over the head with something hard.

Her vision went dark.

After a fight in the parking lot that ended with Dean punching Sam, they decided to go to the nest, for different reasons. Dean wanted to kill the vampires while Sam wanted to let them go. They returned to the motel room to find Gordon and Calypso gone.

"Callie?" Dean called. "Gordon?"

No answer.

"You think he took her and went after them?" Sam asked, looking around desperately for his sister.

"Probably," Dean agreed. "Maybe she wanted to kill some vamps, too."

"Dean, we have to stop them," Sam said.

"Really, Sam?" Dean asked. "Because I say we lend a hand."

"Just give me the benefit of the doubt, would you?" Sam begged. "You owe me that."

"Yeah, we'll see," Dean said. He looked over at the wall, alarmed by something he just noticed. "Sam, is that blood?"

His brother looked over, wide eyed.

"I think it is," he said, stunned. "I don't think Callie went with Gordon willingly, Dean."

"We're going, now!" Dean demanded angrily. "Give me the keys."

Sam looked over at the table.

"He snaked the keys," he gasped, noticing the empty key holder.

Luckily, Dean knew how to hot-wire the impala.

Gordon had been experimenting for what seemed like days. Calypso was forgetting it was Gordon doing this to her, not someone else, someone more familiar. She couldn't even tell where she was anymore, on the floor of the vampires' cabin, or surrounded by the gray stone of her basement. If Calypso focused, she could hear the groans from Lenore above her as Gordon worked on the vampire woman to give Calypso a little break. It hurt. Even the air touching her skin hurt. Gordon had tried everything on her, getting very creative. She didn't understand how she was still conscious. Whenever this had happened before, she was always out this far in. Maybe exhaustion was what was making her have the flashbacks.

Calypso didn't realize that Sam and Dean had just walked in.

"Sam, Dean," Gordon said, out of the blue. "Come on in."

"Gordon," Dean said angrily. "What's going on?"

"Just poisoning Lenore here with some dead man's blood. She's going to tell us where all her little friends are, aren't you? Wanna help?"

"Where's Callie?" Dean asked protectively.

"Oh, she's right here," Gordon said, pointing to the ground next to him. Neither Dean nor Sam could see her from their angle. "Just trying to see what will kill her. She's not human, after all. A monster. She deserves to die. Do you wanna try?"

There was a tired whimper coming from Calypso and Dean clenched his fists. He was going to kill Gordon.

"Come on, grab a knife," Gordon offered. "I was just about to start in on the neck." He showed off his knife, an odd liquid at the end of it. "This one has acid on it."

He pulled Calypso up by her bloody hair and sliced a thin cut across her throat. She screamed. It burned. It burned so much.

"Stop! Please!" she screamed desperately. As he made another cut, Gordon's face blurred. Suddenly, she saw a different person torturing her. Her voice seemed to change, become younger and higher pitched. "Stop it! Please, Daddy, stop, you're hurting me!"

There was a stunned silence that seemed to echo across the room. Sam was taken aback. He didn't know that her dad did these things to her, or so it seemed. Dean looked at her sadly. He had been hoping that it wasn't true, but now... Well, Calypso had just unknowingly confirmed the fact.

"Huh," Gordon finally said. "Guess you learn something new every day."

He let go of Calypso's hair and she fell to the floor, crying out when she hit the ground. She still seemed to be crying softly as she laid there, weak. Sam snapped out of it.

"Get away from her!" Sam yelled, stepping forward. Dean stopped him with a hand on his chest. Dean wanted to kill Gordon just as much as Sam did, but they needed to be careful. Who knew what he might do?

"You're right. I'm wasting my time here," Gordon agreed. He looked at Callie. "Doesn't seem like anything will work, but I can keep trying." He turned to Lenore. "But her... This bitch will never talk. Might as well put her out of her misery." He pulls out a giant knife. "I just sharpened it, so it's completely humane."

He turned towards Lenore, but Sam stepped forward to block him.

"Gordon, I'm letting them go," Sam told him. Gordon pointed the knife at Sam's chest, stopping him in response.

"You're not doing a damn thing."

"Gordon, let's talk about this," Dean tried to say calmly. It didn't really work.

"What's there to talk about?" Gordon asked. "It's like I said, Dean. No shades of gray. Black," he said, motioning to Calypso and Lenore, "and white." He motioned to Sam, Dean, and himself.

"Look, I know how you feel," Dean said.

"Do you?"

"That vampire that killed your sister deserved to die, but Callie isn't a monster like it, and this one-"

"Killed my sister?" Gordon laughed. "That filthy fang didn't kill my sister. It turned her. It made her one of them. So I hunted her down, and I killed her myself."

It was quiet.

"You did what?" Dean asked. He didn't understand how someone could do that to their family. Family was the only thing he ever had. To even think about what Gordon did... It made him sick.

"It wasn't my sister anymore, it wasn't human," Gordon claimed. "I didn't blink. And neither would you."

On the ground, Calypso was hearing bits and pieces of the conversation. But when she heard Gordon say this, she knew he was wrong. Dean wouldn't kill his family if they were turned. He would find a cure, or at the very least, let them go. He wouldn't track them down and kill them.

"So you knew all along, then?" Sam asked. "You knew about the vampires, you knew they weren't killing anyone. You knew about the cattle. And you just didn't care."

"Care about what?" Gordon replied sharply. "A nest of vampires suddenly acting nice? Taking a little time out from sucking innocent people? And we're supposed to buy that? Trust me. Doesn't change what they are. And I can prove it."

Before anyone had time to think, Gordon grabbed Sam's arm and sliced the knife across it. He then put the knife against his throat and dragged him to Lenore.

Dean pulled his gun almost as quickly.

"Let him go," Dean demanded. "Now!"

"Relax," Gordon said calmly. "If I wanted to kill him he'd already be on the floor. Just making a little point."

Gordon held the cut on Sam's arm over Lenore and squeezed, so the blood dropped on her face. She hissed, her fangs extending.

Calypso watched the scene as though it was a dream, with half closed eyes. She was too exhausted to do anything about it, though she tried to make herself move to help.

"Hey!" Dean exclaimed.

"You think she's so different? Still want to save her?" Gordon asked. "Look at her. They're all the same. Evil, bloodthirsty."

Well, they are when you force them to be.

Lenore suddenly retracted her fangs and turned her face away, controlling herself.

"No. No," she groaned.

Calypso did her best to smile at the small triumph.

"You hear her, Gordon?" Sam asked.

"No!" Lenore exclaimed more forcefully. "No!"

Sam pushed the knife away from his throat and shoved Gordon away.

"We're done here," Sam told Gordon.

"Sam, get her out of here," Dean said, motioning to Lenore.

"What about Callie?" Sam protested.

"I don't think she should be moved yet," Dean suggested. "I can take care of her."

"Okay."

Sam picked Lenore up in his arms and started to leave. Gordon took a step towards him, but Dean still had the gun trained on the man.

"Uh-uh," Dean warned Gordon. "Uh-uh!" Sam got out the door safely. "Gordon, I think you and I've got some things to talk about."

"Get out of my way," Gordon demanded.

"Sorry," Dean said unapologetically.

"You're not serious."

"I'm having a hard time believing it too, but I know what I saw. If you want those vampires, you gotta go through me." He looked at the ground where Calypso was for a moment. "And if you take one step towards Callie, you'll be dead before you hit the floor."

Gordon nodded, considering. He looked at his knife then stabbed it into the table.

"Fine," he agreed.

Dean looked at the knife then at his own gun. He pulled the clip out of the gun and set it aside. Then, Gordon punched him. Calypso could hear the sound from where she was laying, battling against unconsciousness. The two started fighting and Gordon grabbed the knife again. Dean groaned, but they were still pretty evenly matched.

"What are you doing, man?" Gordon asked between blows. "You doing this for a couple monsters? Come on, Dean, we're on the same side here."

"I don't think so, you sadistic bastard," Dean growled.

Gordon threw Dean across the room in response.

"You're not like your brother. You're a killer. Like me."

Dean kicked Gordon down, hauled him up against the wall, and elbowed him in the face, knocking him out. Triumphant, Dean pinned Gordon's head under his elbow and started to the other room. Seeing his chance, he slammed Gordon's head into another wall.

"Oh, sorry," Dean said sarcastically.

He went into the other room and set Gordon in a chair, tying him up securely.

"You know, I might be like you, and I might not," Dean admitted. "But you're the one tied up right now."

Dean then went over to the other side of the table to check on Calypso. When he saw just how bad her injuries were, he shook his head in anger. He was going to kill Gordon. He would kill him.

"You're hurt," Calypso noticed, staring at the new bruises and cuts on Dean's face. He chuckled.

"You always do this," Dean told her.

"What?"

"Care about other people's injuries when you're doing worse," Dean clarified.

"Well..." She was interrupted by a coughing fit. When she pulled her hand away from her face, both Dean and her saw that it was specked with blood.

"Let's get you cleaned up a bit," Dean offered. He pulled out a couple bandages and looked her over, wondering which places he should put them at. "I can't believe this. How can you get hurt so bad in only a couple hours?"

"Had worse in less," she told him dismissively as he started wrapping a bandage around her arm.

"That's terrifying," he told her.

"No, no," she said quickly. "I needed it. I did bad things. I had to be punished."

"Is that what your dad told you?" Dean asked angrily.

"You don't know my dad," Calypso told him, an edge on her voice. "He would never hurt me without a reason."

"He should've never hurt you, anyway."

Calypso shook her head mutely. Dean was wrong. He didn't understand. He didn't know.

But she did.

Sam came back the next morning. By that time, Calypso was sitting up and Gordon was fully conscious. Dean paced as he kept an eye on the man.

"Did I miss anything?" Sam asked, eyebrows raised.

"Nah, not much," Dean said. "Fixed Callie up a bit. Lenore get out okay?"

"Yeah. All of 'em did," Sam told them all, sounding as if he was specifically talking to Gordon.

"Thank God," Calypso said, sitting on the table.

"Then I guess our work here is done," Dean stated. He turned to Gordon. "How you doin', Gordy? Gotta tinkle yet?" Gordon stared at him angrily. "All right. Well, get comfy. We'll call someone in two or three days, have them come out, untie you."

He jammed Gordon's knife into the table, right next to Calypso.

"Whoa, whoa, watch the fingers," she joked.

"Ready to go, Dean?" Sam asked.

"Not yet," Dean replied. He paused for a moment, looking at Gordon. "I guess this is goodbye. Well, it's been real-" he interrupted himself by punching Gordon, knocking him and the chair to the floor. Sam cleared his throat as Calypso laughed. "Okay. I'm good now." Dean turned to his brother. "We can go."

Calypso slowly slid off the table, wincing. At least Gordon hadn't touched her feet. She wouldn't have been able to stand up if he had. She looked at him for a second, narrowing her eyes.

"I'm not a monster," she told Gordon, crouching down next to him. "I don't kill or torture innocent people just because of one bad thing that happened to me. No, you're the monster, Gordon. And I guarantee that someday, you'll die like one."

All three were wincing as they left the farmhouse as a result of their recent injuries. Sam's arm was wrapped in a bandage while Dean had small bruises and cuts all over himself. He suddenly stopped, setting himself on his feet like a boxer.

"Sam, clock me one," Dean said, bracing himself.

"What?"

Calypso had the same question.

"Come on. I won't even hit you back. Let's go."

"No."

"Let's go, you get a freebie. Hit me, come on."

"You hit Sam?" Calypso asked, stunned. "Jeez, a lot happens when you get kidnapped..."

"Yeah, so Sam gets a free one," Dean explained.

Calypso shook her head and mumbled something about boys being boys.

"You look like you just went twelve rounds with a block of cement, Dean," Sam pointed out. "I'll take a raincheck."

They reached the car, but didn't get in yet.

"I wish we never took this job. It's jacked everything up," Dean said.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"Think about all the hunts we went on, Sammy, our whole lives," Dean told him.

"Okay."

"What if we killed things that didn't deserve killing? You know? I mean, the way Dad raised us..." Dean trailed off.

"Your Dad did the best he could," Calypso said, forcing herself to speak about him. "After your mom, he did the best he could. Maybe he wasn't perfect but... He tried."

"I know he did. But the way he raised us, to hate those things; and I hate 'em, I do," Dean explained. "When I killed that vampire at the mill I didn't even think about it; hell, I even enjoyed it."

"You didn't kill Lenore," Sam told him.

"No, but every instinct told me to. I was gonna kill her. I was gonna kill 'em all."

"Yeah, Dean, but you didn't. And that's what matters."

"Yeah. Well, 'cause you're a pain in my ass," Dean told his brother. Calypso smiled, but as soon as she turned around, it melted away. She couldn't keep up the illusion forever.

"Guess I might have to stick around to be a pain in the ass, then," Sam said to

Dean.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

Sam and Calypso got in the car, followed by Dean a few seconds later. He began driving off.

"You wanna explain what happened back there?" Sam asked Calypso. Dean frowned as he looked over at his brother. This was a dangerous topic. "While you were being..."

"Tortured?" Calypso asked. "It's all kinda fuzzy. When it happens a lot, it sorta blends together. You forget where you are. You think you're being hurt by somebody else. Whoever does it most often. And you just can't think..." She stared off into space, deep in thought. "After a while, it just kinda hurts... You don't know what's happening."

"Do you even know what you're saying while it's happening?" Dean asked. Calypso shook her head.

"That's the scariest part," she admitted. "I don't know what slipped out until afterwards. It's never information or anything. I'm good at keeping that locked away. But other stuff..."

She frowned and the brothers could tell that she was more concerned about it than she showed.

"You said something about your father while Gordon was, uh, you know," Sam told her carefully, not wanting her to freak out. "Did your father ever... Abuse you?"

"No!" she told him defensively. "Would you two stop asking me that? My father never hurt me without good reason. Punishment only, like if I did something wrong. Said something odd, brought up Mother around him... Bad stuff like that."

That was all Sam needed. He looked over at Dean.

They needed to talk.


	16. Chapter 16

"Dad told you and you didn't say anything?" Sam asked in disbelief. He and Dean were discussing their newfound knowledge of Calypso's background while she took a walk outside their motel room.

"I didn't want to say anything to you without talking to her about it," Dean said. "And Dad told me not to confront her. I mean, you saw how mad she got when we tried talking about it."

"I don't get it," Sam sighed. "How can she possibly think it's normal?"

"Beats me. Probably was told that from when she was little. Brainwashing, sort of."

"Maybe," Sam agreed. He looked over at the door, making sure she wouldn't suddenly walk in. "What are we gonna do about this?"

"We're gonna keep an eye on her," Dean replied immediately. "Make sure she doesn't go back."

"And we're just gonna let her keep believing that it was normal?"

"Do you think she'd believe us?" Dean asked. "Sam, she won't even consider it. She loves her Dad, no matter how sick the man is."

Calypso walked through the door as soon as Dean finished the sentence, her hands in her pockets. She looked between the brothers, who watched her like a hawk.

"Something wrong?" she asked, picking up on the atmosphere of the room.

"No," Dean lied. "Everything's cool."

"Uh huh," she said doubtfully.

Calypso knew something was going on, but didn't care enough to ask. She was too tired.

Sam wanted to stop by his mother's grave, since they were in the area. Dean was reluctant, but Calypso thought it was a good idea for the two to pay their respects. She noticed they would always get caught up in their hunt and not acknowledge their past. To Calypso, the past was everything.

As they loaded up the back of the impala, Calypso suddenly stopped and stared at the motel wall in front of her. Sam and Dean noticed after a moment and tried to see what she was looking at. There was nothing there.

"Callie?" Sam asked after a second. She straightened up suddenly and looked over at him.

"Huh?"

"What were you looking at?"

"Oh, nothing," she explained, starting to pack again. "Just spacing out, I guess. I don't know why, but I thought of this time Mom took me to a pumpkin patch with Dad."

"Really?" Sam asked carefully, looking at Dean.

"Yeah. Earliest memory I have, I think. I was two or three."

It had been a week before Halloween when Calypso's parents had realized that they didn't have pumpkins yet. They had taken her and brought her out to a pumpkin farm a few miles away from where they lived. Calypso had had a huge smile on her face the entire ride up. When they had finally arrived, Calypso's father had pulled her up on his shoulders.

"You see all these pumpkins?" he had asked. "Think of how many carriages Cinderella would have if she lived here!"

Calypso had giggled a child's high pitched laugh.

"Don't drop her!" her mother had warned as she walked up behind the two.

"I got her," Calypso's dad had said. "She's fine."

"If you say so," her mother had caved, walking up and kissing her husband.

"Ew-ie!" Calypso had whined, covering her eyes.

Her parents had laughed and patted her on the head before walking into the farm.

Looking back, Calypso smiled. The Winchesters didn't understand. This was her father, not some monster that would torture her for fun. He was a kind, gentle man. He was the perfect father. It wasn't his fault that she disobeyed his rules so often. He would tell her that it pained him to hurt her, even when it was necessary. It wasn't his fault.

It was all hers.

After another debate in the car about whether or not to visit Mary Winchester's grave, Sam, Dean, and Calypso arrived at the graveyard. As a way of honoring John, Sam put his father's dog tags in the ground by the headstone. Dean refused to go near the grave while Calypso stayed far away, feeling as though she was intruding on something personal. She never knew Mary, so it would be rude to act like she did. Dean soon noticed a perfect circle of dead plants around a recent grave, becoming convinced that this was a case.

"Angela Mason," Dean told Sam and Calypso when he came back over. "She was a student at the local college; funeral was three days ago."

The three began walking to the impala together.

"Poor girl," Calypso said sadly.

"And?" Sam asked.

"And? You saw her grave," Dean pointed out. "Everything dead around it, in a perfect circle? You don't think that's a little weird?"

"Maybe the groundskeeper went a little agro with the pesticide."

"No, I asked him, I asked him. No pesticide, no chemicals. Nobody can explain it."

"That's strange. Something supernatural, maybe?" Calypso asked.

"Probably," Dean agreed. "Unholy ground or something?"

"Un-" Sam began, stopping and becoming speechless.

"It's not really that crazy," Calypso said, confused.

"Exactly. If something evil happened there, it could easily poison the ground," Dean explained. "Remember the farm outside of Cedar Rapids?"

"Yeah, b-"

"Could be the sign of a demonic presence. Or the, the Angela girl's spirit, if it's powerful enough." Sam nodded and turned away. "Well, don't get too excited, you might pull something."

"It's just... stumbling onto a hunt? Here, of all places?" Sam asked doubtfully.

"You can find a hunt anywhere," Calypso pointed out. "I mean, remember the one at your childhood house? Wouldn't expect anything there, either, would you? It can happen wherever you go."

"Exactly," Dean agreed.

"But... Are you sure this is about a hunt, and not about something else?" Sam asked his brother.

"What else would it be about?" Dean asked defensively.

Sam sighed heavily and shook his head. He moved to get into the car, Calypso following his lead.

"You know, just forget about it," Sam dismissed the topic.

"You believe what you want, Sam, but I let you drag my ass out here, the least we could do is check this out."

"Yeah. Fine," Sam agreed reluctantly.

"Girl's dad works in town. He's a professor at the school."

"Anything else about it? Cause of death?" Calypso asked as she sat down in the car.

"Car accident," Dean explained.

"Yeah, we should probably check this out," Calypso agreed. "The unholy ground thing doesn't seem like a coincidence. But it also might be nothing. Gotta prepare for both options, I guess."

"I guess," Sam agreed reluctantly.

Dean started the car and they drove off down the street to town.

They visited Dr. Mason, Angela's father, and he showed them a photo album of his daughter. Sam and Calypso flipped through it while Dean looked through an old book a bit away.

"She was beautiful," Sam said quietly, trying to be sympathetic.

"Yes, she was," Dr. Mason agreed sadly.

"This is an unusual book," Dean commented from where he stood.

He showed off the cover of the book he'd been paging through; it had carvings of strange letters and a triangular symbol. Calypso stared at it for a moment, wondering what language it was in. There was a sudden pain and she brought her hands to her head with a quiet exclamation that nobody heard. Dr. Mason continued speaking.

"It's Ancient Greek. I teach a course," he told them.

"Cool," Calypso said without thinking. "I took Latin for a couple years."

"It's a fine language."

Calypso looked up at Dean, knowing what he really wanted to ask.

"So, a car accident. That's, that's horrible," Dean told the man sympathetically.

"Angie was only a mile away from home when..." He trailed off, unable to speak about it.

"It's gotta be hard. Losing someone like that. Sometimes it's like they're still around. Almost like you can still sense their presence." Sam looked at his brother, not agreeing with what they were doing, while Calypso clenched her fists. "You ever feel anything like that?"

"I do, as a matter of fact."

"That's perfectly normal, Dr. Mason," Sam said, still glaring at his brother. "Especially with what you're going through."

"You know, I still phone her. And the phone's ringing before I remember that, uh..."

"I used to do the same thing when my friend died," Calypso admitted. She looked at her lap, thinking of her deceased friend. "Hearing her voice, even if it was just the answering machine... Well, I could kind of imagine that she was still there."

Dr. Mason nodded sadly.

"Family's everything, you know? Angie was the most important thing in my life. And now I-I-I'm just lost without her."

"We're very sorry," Sam told him.

Calypso nodded thoughtfully. The man's life must have shattered when his daughter died. It was a shame.

"I'm telling you, there's something going on here. We just haven't found it yet," Dean told Sam and Calypso in the motel room. It was dark outside, a few hours after their talk with Dr. Mason.

"Dean, so far you've got a patch of dead grass and nothing," Sam pointed it.

"Well, something turned that grave into unholy ground."

"There's no reason for it to be unholy ground. Angela Mason was a nice girl who died in a car crash. That's not exactly vengeful spirit material. You heard her father."

"You don't really know that, though," Calypso told them, sitting down on the edge of one of the beds. "I mean, people are never really what you think. There were a lot of people at my old school that acted all nice in front of teachers and parents, then beat you up and ripped your textbooks when nobody was looking." She felt Sam and Dean look at her strangely. "What?"

"Did that happen to you?" Sam asked slowly. Calypso looked down, unable to look Sam in the eye. "Of course it did."

"Well, I wasn't exactly popular," she admitted, kicking her feet out. Calypso sighed and straightened up. "But whatever. It's not important. So, is this a hunt or not?"

It was quiet for a moment.

"It's not," Sam said, finally.

"Yes, it is," Dean insisted angrily.

"We never should have bothered that poor man, Dean. We shouldn't even be here anymore."

"So what, Sam?" Dean asked. "What, we just bail? Without even figuring out what's going on?"

"I think I know what's going on here. It's the only reason I went along with you this far," Sam said.

"What are you talking about?"

"This is about Mom's grave."

"Sam," Calypso warned softly.

"That's got nothing to do with it," Dean said with a scoff.

"You wouldn't step within a hundred yards of it," Sam pointed out. "Look. Maybe you're imagining a hunt where there isn't one so you don't have to think about Mom. Or Dad." Dean turned to look at him, eyes glinting with anger, and Sam sighed. "You wanna take another swing? Go ahead, if it'll make you feel better."

"No, don't you two do this," Calypso said, standing up. Their fights never ended well.

"I don't need this crap," Dean said angrily, after a moment. He grabbed his jacket and keys and started towards the door.

"Dean, where're you going?" Sam asked, sounding almost tired.

"I'm going to go get a drink. Alone."

He left, slamming the door, and Calypso sighed.

"I'm gonna go talk to him," she told Sam, starting to walk to the door after her brother.

"I'll go with you," Sam offered. Calypso turned around.

"No offense, but I don't think that's the best idea," she admitted. "Dean might want time away from the memory of what you said. No matter how true, it might be painful." She shook her head. "Sorry, it might just be best if you stayed here."

Sam looked at the door for a moment, before sighing and sitting down.

"You're probably right," he admitted.

"I'm really sorry," Calypso said as she ran out the door to catch Dean. It shut quietly, leaving Sam alone.

Calypso got to the impala just as Dean was getting in. She opened up the passenger side door and sat right next to him, much to his surprise.

"I thought I said I wanted to be alone," Dean told her pointedly.

"You did," she agreed, buckling. "I just kinda chose to ignore it." Calypso looked over at Dean, who stared right back, and sighed. "Look, you don't want to talk about it. Fine. I get it. But running off? Probably not the best idea. Not without backup."

"I'm fine."

"I know. Just thought you'd want some company," Calypso told him. "It's not fun to dwell in your eternal misery. Trust me, I know."

They stared at each other, neither one of them wanting to give in. After a few minutes, Dean surrendered.

"Ugh, fine," he agreed grudgingly. "But if you say anything about what just happened, I will make you walk back here."

"I know."

Calypso leaned back in the seat as Dean turned the impala on and started off on the road.

"Where are we going?" Calypso asked after a few minutes.

"No clue," Dean admitted. "The first bar we come across."

"Sounds good."

Calypso didn't even read the name of the bar when they went in, just followed close behind Dean. She flashed her fake ID, and sat next to him at the bar. Yet again, she refused to get anything.

"I just don't like alcohol," Calypso claimed when Dean asked. "It reminds me of..." She frowned and looked away.

"Of what?"

Of course, Dean already had an idea.

"Of nothing," Calypso lied quickly. "It just smells and tastes bad."

Dean shrugged and ordered a beer for himself. They sat quietly for a few minutes before Dean went off to use the bathroom, leaving Calypso alone at the bar. She felt awkward, sitting there, but not drinking anything. It was pretty clear she was uncomfortable.

"Hey, honey," a voice said from behind her. Calypso whirled around quickly, her hair flying. "Can I buy you a drink?"

The man looked about in his mid-thirties and had light brown hair and eyes. He was very in shape, but Calypso didn't care. He was more than twice her age.

"No, thanks," she told him. "I'm okay."

"Please I insist." Before Calypso could protest, he called the bartender over. "One Bay Breeze for the lady."

Calypso watched in amazement as the drink was whipped up and placed in front of her. She turned to the man, who was now sitting next to her, in Dean's seat.

"Really, I'm okay," she protested. "I can pay you back-"

"No, it's my treat. Please, at least take one sip."

Calypso figured one sip wouldn't hurt, so she put her mouth around the straw. She immediately recoiled.

"It's strong!" she exclaimed. Even though it was only a tiny sip, the awful taste seemed to fill her entire mouth.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the man apologized. "Maybe if you come back to my place, I can get you something more to your liking."

"I'm okay, thanks," Calypso told him, still choking a bit. That was not a good choice for her first drink.

"Please," the man said, coming closer to her. She leaned away, smelling the liquor on his breath. "Maybe we can get around to... Other things, too."

"I'm good," Calypso said, ice on her voice.

"I insist," the man purred. Suddenly, there was a hand on Calypso's thigh.

"I have to go," she exclaimed, jerking away and standing up quickly. Without looking back, she sprinted out the door. She would just wait for Dean there. He would find her eventually. But there was no way she was going back inside.

As she stared up at the moon, a hand covered her mouth and forced her against the wall. Calypso struggled and flailed her feet out, kicking something. She thought it was a leg. The man was back and it didn't look like he was taking no for an answer. He put a knife against her throat.

"Come to the car quietly and nobody gets hurt," he whispered softly in her ear. She grinned. He really thought he could hurt her with a knife? He chose the wrong girl to threaten.

In an instant, her knee jerked upward, hitting the man's crotch. With a groan, he stepped backwards, giving Calypso time to step away towards the entrance again. But the guy recovered quickly and appeared in front of her once again.

"Oh, you're asking for it," he growled.

Calypso smirked.

"Bring it on."

The man was fast, Calypso had to give him that. He shoved her backwards before she could even blink. But she had been training with the Winchesters for a year, so it was easy for her to punch him across the face, making the man stumble back a few steps. Calypso took the same amount of steps forward. With a yell, the man ran at her. All Calypso had to do was step aside, and he blew past. She had a clear shot to the door, but knew she wouldn't make it. Not with the man being able to run so quickly. So she went on offense, charging forward. He threw a punch, but Calypso ducked under it. She grabbed his arm, held on tight, and flipped the man over her head.

He fell to the ground with a loud thud and Calypso straightened up, breathing heavily. A smile crept across her face. She beat a guy almost as tall as Sam, with the same amount of muscle. She had never felt prouder before in her whole life.

Of course, that was before the second guy tackled her from behind.

One minute Calypso was standing up, the next she was on the ground, the breath knocked out of her, with a new guy straddling her. Wonderful.

"My, my, he was right," the new man told a struggling Calypso, smiling. "You're quite a catch. We're gonna have fun tonight, baby."

"Get off me!" Calypso screamed, struggling, just as she would when anyone would try to pin her down.

The man laughed and was about to say something, when another voice came from behind him.

"You heard her," Dean said. "Now get off!"

The man stood up and turned around to face Dean. Behind him, Calypso was sitting up, rubbing the back of her aching head.

The man didn't seem so cocky as he looked at Dean, who had a knife clenched in his right hand and a murderous glint in his eyes. The man's partner was getting up, groaning, behind Dean.

"Just having a fun time with her, you know?" the man told Dean.

"You're sick," Dean snarled.

Calypso slowly got up, though her head still hurt from being tackled onto solid concrete. She realized that she was surrounded on three sides by the bar's walls. The only way out was naturally blocked by the man.

"Look, buddy, you want the girl, you gotta fight us for her," the man said.

"Do you have any idea how old fashioned that idea is?" Calypso asked, looking around for possible foot holds on the walls. "I mean, really?"

"Fine," Dean hissed.

Calypso saw him tense, waiting for the other man to attack first. He did, arms flying out like pinwheels. Dean blocked the punches and threw a couple of his own. The man ducked under them, but a third hit him right on the cheek. He growled and kicked Dean in the leg, causing him to stumble back. The two were pretty evenly matched.

Then the other man joined in. Against one, Dean had a chance. A big one. But two? Calypso knew she had to do something. And to do that, she had to climb up.

Calypso hoped the pipe wouldn't break as she climbed up and across it. That would be a problem. With every squeak, she froze. When she looked down, she saw Dean fighting hard against the two men. Then, Dean was suddenly on the ground, one holding a knife to his throat. Calypso didn't even think. She let go of the pipe and flew through the air, onto the man without the knife. She knocked him down with a yell, then stood up quickly and went over to the man with the knife. He stared at her, surprised, and realized she was blocking the exit. The man narrowed his eyes and stepped forward. He didn't get a single punch in before Calypso swung her leg up and roundhouse kicked him in the face. He fell down next to his friend.

Calypso looked up at Dean and sighed.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Few cuts and bruises, but I'm good," Dean replied. "You?"

"I have a little bit of a headache, but I'll be fine," Calypso said. "Must've hit my head when the guy tackled me."

They walked back to the car and stepped in, sitting there for a moment.

"Took you long enough," Calypso told Dean with a grin.

"Glad to see you're grateful for me saving your ass," Dean shot back.

"You're welcome for me doing the same for you," Calypso said. She looked back at the bar, its lights blinking welcomingly, and the smile faded away. The sight filled her with dread. "But, uh, yeah, thanks."

"You too," Dean told her.

It was quiet for a moment.

"What happened?" Dean asked as he started the car.

"I thought he was just some normal jerk at the bar at first," Calypso admitted. "The guy bought me a drink, which was way too strong, by the way, and tried to convince me to go back to his place and-" She swallowed, starting to shake a little. "And when I said no, he um..." She grabbed her thigh in explanation. Dean clenched his teeth. "Naturally, I kinda freaked out and ran outside. Then he ambushed me and we started fighting and I flipped him over my shoulder. But the other came out and tackled me from behind. You know what happens from there."

"Really, though, are you okay?" Dean asked quickly.

"I already told you-"

"I know you're fine physically," Dean told her. "But are you sure you're okay?"

Calypso swallowed nervously. No, she wasn't. She was far from okay. Her head was spinning, bad memories were coming back to haunt her. In all honesty, she was a mess.

"Yeah," she lied, clicking the seatbelt in. "I'm good."

The next day, Calypso and Dean went to look around Angela's place, where they were caught by her roommate, Lindsay. Dean quickly took care of the situation by saying he and Calypso were Angela's cousins who were coming to pick up some of her stuff. Lindsay quickly became emotional, and they were soon all sitting on the couch awkwardly. Lindsay was bawling her eyes out while Calypso and Dean did their best to interrogate her without the girl knowing.

"So. I'm sure you got a, a view of Angela that none of the family got to see. Tell me, what, what was she like? I mean, what was she really like?" Dean asked Lindsay.

"She was great," Lindsay told him and Calypso.

"Hmm."

"Just great," Lindsay continued. "I mean, she was so... so..."

"Great?" Calypso suggested awkwardly.

"Yeah," Lindsay agreed. She began to sob again. "Yeah."

Dean took a tissue from the box on the table and handed it to the girl, looking exceedingly uncomfortable.

"Here you go."

"I guess you two were pretty close, being roommates and all," Calypso stated, hoping that Lindsay would respond with helpful information.

"We were," Lindsay agreed. "But it's not just her, it's Matt."

"Who?" Dean asked.

"Angela's boyfriend," Lindsay said as if it were obvious.

"Right, Matt. What about him?"

"He killed himself last night," Lindsay explained. "He cut his own throat. Who does that?"

"You'd be surprised," Calypso told her. "Grief makes people do horrible things."

"I guess," Lindsay said. "He was taking Angela's death pretty hard, and... I mean, he'd been messed up about it for days."

"Messed up how?" Dean asked.

"He kept saying that he saw her everywhere."

"Well, I'm, I'm sure that that's normal, I mean with everything that he was going through."

"No, he said that he _saw_ her. As in, an acid trip or something," Lindsay explained.

"Huh," Calypso said, exchanging a look with Dean. There was a moment.

"Were Angela and Matt a happy couple?" Dean asked suddenly. "I mean, is there any reason that Angela would be angry with him?"

"What?" Lindsay asked, sounding shocked. Almost going overboard with the emotion. "No, of course not, why do you ask?"

"Just asking," Dean claimed. "Where did Matt live?"

Sam was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching TV, when Calypso opened the door and walked inside with Dean. She raised an eyebrow as her brother quickly turned it off and threw the remote aside. Clearly, he hadn't been watching something appropriate.

"Hey," Sam said awkwardly.

Calypso entered the room slowly as Dean glanced between the television and Sam.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Awkward," Dean said in reply, walking faster.

"Where in the hell were you two?" he asked.

Sam looked over at Calypso, who mouthed "He's okay." He relaxed.

"Working my imaginary case," Dean replied.

"Yeah? And?"

"Well, you were right, I didn't find much," Dean began. Sam nodded sympathetically while Calypso rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Except Angela's boyfriend died last night. Slit his own throat. But, you know, that's normal. Uh, let's see, what else. Oh, he was seeing Angela everywhere before he died. But you know, I'm sure that's just me transferring my own feelings."

"There's no need to be a jerk, Dean," Calypso scolded. He shrugged and turned away.

"Okay, I get it," Sam admitted. "I'm sorry, maybe there is something going on here."

"Maybe? Sam, I know how to do my job, despite what you might think."

"That's not what he was saying," Calypso told Dean calmly.

"We should check out the guy's apartment," Sam suggested.

"We just did, actually," Calypso told him. "Everything was dead. Plants, just like in the cemetery. Even a goldfish."

"So, unholy ground?" Sam asked.

"Maybe. I'm still not getting that powerful angry spirit vibe from Angela," Dean answered. He got up and crosses the room to pick up a pink book. "I have been reading this, though."

"You stole the girl's diary?" Sam asked in shock.

"Yeah, I still can't believe it," Calypso told him.

"Anyway, if anything, the girl's a little too nice," Dean told them.

"So what do you want to do?" Sam asked.

"Keep digging, talk to more of her friends," Dean suggested.

"You get any names?"

"Are you kidding me?" Dean held up the diary and shook it. "I have her bestest friend in the whole wide world."

Calypso shook her head in amusement.

"Cool, give me a sec," she told them. "I gotta take a shower."

She was quick, only ten or fifteen minutes, before she came out of the bathroom, dressed and ready to go. Sam and Dean got up to leave, when they noticed what was under her slightly pulled up sleeve.

"Callie," Sam began, not moving. "What's that on your arm?"

Calypso looked down and pulled the sleeve to cover it quickly.

"Nothing," she claimed.

The Winchesters stepped forward and Calypso put her arm behind her back. She didn't want them to see what she did. It wasn't something she wanted to show off. But as she stared up at them, Calypso couldn't help but feel guilty. They had tried to get her to stop before and she hadn't. They had to be disappointed.

She looked away as Dean grabbed her left arm and pulled it in front of her. He looked at her for a moment and she stared back nervously. The sleeve brushed against her stinging skin as Dean pushed it up. Calypso heard him sigh.

"These are new," Sam realized, looking at the hastily bandaged still bleeding cuts. "Callie-"

"It's nothing," she said, tugging her arm away. Or trying to. Dean tightened his grip, not letting her.

"Why do you keep doing this?"

"Well, what else am I supposed to do?" she exclaimed. "Look, your Dad's death didn't just affect you two, okay? I'm still not dealing with it very well. So I do this because it helps me. Just let me do this, please."

She wanted to tell them more. She wanted to explain about the secrets she had to keep, about the real reason John was dead. But she couldn't.

"No," Dean told her, shaking his head. He didn't want to do this, but it looked like he had to. "No." He held out his other hand. "Give me your knife."

"What?! Dean-"

"We've given you chances to stop. Clearly, you haven't," Dean said. "I'm not seeing any other solution here."

"No!" she protested. "No way! How else am I supposed to fight?"

"Easy," Dean told her. He wasn't trying to be cruel to her, but he needed to be.

"You don't."

It became silent and Dean finally let go of Calypso's arm.

"What?" Calypso asked in a whisper.

"Until you're done with this, and I mean completely done, you're staying out of the action," Dean explained. "You're letting us do the work, because you're clearly not responsible enough to handle a knife!"

"Dean-" Sam tried to cut in.

"It's for the best, Sam," Dean told his brother. Calypso could hear the weight on his voice.

"Dean, please," she begged.

"Do you swear you won't use it to cut yourself anymore?"

There was a pause.

"I can't do that," she whispered.

"Then hand the knife over."

Feeling almost betrayed, Calypso took the knife from her back pocket and gave it to Dean. He looked at her for a moment, then turned around to go to the door.

"Come on, both of you," Dean ordered. "We've gotta interview the kid."

Sam left first, not able to look at Calypso. He agreed that it was necessary, but knew she would hold a grudge against them for a long time.

Calypso left last, feeling as though she was in a dream. A bad one. It couldn't have just happened. She wouldn't be able to survive without her knife. It would only be a few days before she started to unwind. She needed to get that knife back.

The only problem was how.

When they talked to Neil, he revealed that the reason Angela crashed the car was because she walked in on her boyfriend and another girl. It was beginning to sound a lot like Angela was a ghost.

"Well, that vengeful spirit theory's starting to make a little more sense," Dean told them as they walked back to the impala. "I mean, hell hath no fury..."

"So if Angela got her revenge on Matt, you think it's over?" Sam asked.

Calypso bit her tongue. She didn't feel the way she usually did when a ghost was in town. She didn't sense the usual cold anger. But she figured Sam and Dean didn't want to hear from her. Dean pretty much told her that she was useless, anyway, didn't he?

"Well, there's one way to be sure," Dean told his brother.

Everyone got in the car.

"Yeah? What's that?" Sam asked.

"Burn the bones."

"Burn the bones?" Sam asked. He scoffed. "Are you high?" Dean made a show of thinking about that for a moment. "Angela died last week!"

"So?" Dean asked.

"So, there's not gonna be bones. There's gonna be a ripe, rotting body in the coffin," Sam said.

"Since when are you afraid to get dirty? Huh?"

Calypso was in charge of shining the flashlight into the grave, just like she always was. She never had the strength to dig for very long, so the Winchesters always suggested that she used the flashlight to help them see. It never really annoyed her, but tonight it did. She was useless. She couldn't even help them dig a damn grave. What was she even trying to accomplish by staying with the Winchesters at this point? They were clearly getting annoyed with her. They obviously didn't want her around anymore. Why was she staying?

Sam and Dean finished digging, finally, and cleared the rest of the dirt off the coffin.

"Ladies first," Dean said, turning to Sam.

Calypso bit her tongue, offended, but not willing to speak up.

"Hold that," Sam said, handing Dean his flashlight.

Calypso narrowed her eyes as the coffin was opened, not feeling as if anything was inside. She was right. There was only white cloth where the body should have been.

"They buried the body four days ago," Dean said, stunned.

"I don't get it," Sam agreed. Calypso shined her flashlight to where Angela's head should have been laying. There was something carved into the inside of the coffin there. "Look."

"What is that?"

"I'm not sure."

Dean was quiet for a moment, thinking.

"I've seen these kind of symbols before."

It turned out that Dr. Mason was not the one who brought Angela back, like Dean thought. In fact, he had no idea what they were talking about. When he threatened to call the police, they figured it was time to go.

"What the hell is the matter with you, Dean?" Sam asked angrily as they walked down the front steps.

Dean hadn't been very subtle or understanding when he confronted Dr. Mason. In fact, he was downright mean, overly so.

"Back off," Dean told him.

"That man is innocent!" Sam exclaimed. Calypso walked slowly behind them, wishing for the familiar weight of the knife in her back pocket. "He didn't deserve that!"

"Okay, so she's not here, maybe he's keeping her somewhere else," Dean said, not considering another person.

"Stop it!" Sam exclaimed. "That's enough, okay? Enough!"

"Sam, I know what I'm doing."

"No, you don't. At all. Dean, I don't scare easy, but man, you're scaring the crap out of me." He looked over at Calypso. "And I know you're doing the same to Callie."

She shrugged. It was true. Dean was scaring her. Ever since John died, it was as if Dean flipped a switch. He had been getting angrier and angrier, unless he had something to focus that anger on. It was terrifying.

"Don't be overdramatic, Sam," Dean said.

"You're lucky this turned out to be a real case," Sam told him. "Because if it wasn't you would have just found something else to kill."

"Wha-"

"You're on edge, you're erratic - except for when you're hunting, because then you're downright scary," Sam pointed out. "You're tail-spinning, man. And you refuse to talk about it and you won't let me help you."

"I can take care of myself, thanks," Dean told his brother.

"No, you can't. And you know what? You're the only one who thinks you should have to," Sam tried to convince him. "Callie and I, we've been trying to help you, to get you back to normal. I mean, she's been going out of her way to make sure you're doing okay." Calypso blushed, looking at the ground. Maybe she wasn't as useless as she thought. "You don't have to handle this on your own, Dean, no one can."

"Sam, if you bring up Dad's death one more time I swear-"

"Stop. Please, Dean, it's killing you. Please. We've already lost Dad. We've lost Mom. I've lost Jessica. Callie's lost her Mom." A lot more people than that actually. Calypso wasn't going to tell them, though. "And now we're going to lose you too?"

"We better get out of here before the cops come," Dean told Sam and Calypso, avoiding the subject. Sam frowned at him while Calypso shrugged. That's what she would do if she were him. "I hear you. Okay? Yeah, I'm being an ass to you two. And I'm sorry. But right now we've got a friggin' zombie running around, and we need to figure out how to kill it."

Sam laughed.

"Right?" Dean continued.

"Our lives are weird, man," Sam realized.

"You're telling me? Come on."

They continued walking to the impala.

Back at the motel, Sam was researching zombie lore while Dean paced back and forth. Calypso, in the meantime, sat on the bed silently.

"We can't just waste it with a head shot?" Dean asked.

"Dude. You've been watching way too many Romero flicks," Sam told his brother.

"You're telling me there's no lore on how to smoke 'em?" Dean confirmed. He went and sat at the table by the window.

"No, Dean, I'm telling you there's too much," Sam said. "I mean, there's a hundred different legends on the walking dead, but they all have different methods for killing them." He joined Dean at the table. Calypso stood up and walked over to them.

"Some say setting them on fire, uh, one said, where is it? Right here. Feeding their hearts to wild dogs." Sam grinned. "That's my personal favorite. I mean, who knows what's real and what's myth?"

"Is there anything they all have in common?"

"No. But a few said silver might work."

Like Calypso's knife - oh wait...

"Silver's a start," Dean agreed.

"Yeah. But now how are we going to find Angela?" Sam asked.

"We've got to figure out the person who brought her back," Dean told him.

"Any ideas?"

"Neil," Calypso said out of the blue. Sam and Dean looked over at her, expecting an explanation. "I mean, nobody is that collected when their best friend-" She cut herself off before she could say the word. Sam and Dean shared a look while Calypso stared at the ground. "He should've been... I don't know, upset, at the least. Shattered would be a better word for it. He seemed almost happy. Stressed, maybe, but kind of happy. So... You know, Neil could be a suspect."

She looked back up at the two, her eyes holding an emotion they couldn't identify. Grief maybe? They didn't know it was guilt.

"Maybe it's his way of dealing," Sam suggested.

"I don't think so," Dean said, going over and picking up the pink diary. "See, you've got your journal, I've got mine." He cleared his throat and began to read. "'Neil's a real shoulder to cry on, he so understands what I'm going through with Matt.'" There's more in here where that came from. It's got

Unrequited Ducky Love written all over it."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean he brought her back from the dead," Sam argued.

"Hmm. Did I mention he's Professor Mason's TA?" Dean added. "Has access to all the same books."

Naturally, Sam and Dean's solution was to break into the guy's house. It was dark and silent as they crept through the front door.

"Hello? Neil?" Dean called, his voice echoing. "It's your grief counselors. We've come to hug."

Calypso sighed as Dean pulled out a gun, wanting a weapon. It had been a battle for her to even accompany the two into the house. But she fought hard, though Dean wanted her completely out of the action. But, she claimed, she was out of the action anyway, without a weapon. It's not like she would do anything. And they didn't need to keep her out of the action for her own protection, either, because it wasn't as if Angela could kill her. So, after a few minutes, the Winchesters gave in.

"Silver bullets?" Sam confirmed, looking at Dean's gun.

"Yeah, enough to make her rattle like a change purse."

They began stalking through the house, Dean in the front and Sam in the back. Calypso was protected by the two of them in the middle. She wasn't holding anything, not even a flashlight, much to her annoyance. But it was better than nothing.

"Dead plants," Calypso pointed out in a whisper, gesturing to the window. A sure sign that Angela was here.

They found the entrance to the basement after a moment.

"Unless it's where he keeps his porn..." Dean said, nodding to the door.

Sam opened it cautiously and Dean led the way down the creaking steps to an empty basement.

"Ugh, death practically radiates off this place," Calypso complained, stepping forward. The stale air pressed against her from all directions, making it hard to breathe.

"Yeah. Sure looks like a zombie pen to me," Dean added.

"An empty one. You think Angela's going after somebody?" Sam wondered.

Dean wandered over to the wall and pulled a loose grate aside. It led outside into the night.

"Nah, I think she went out to rent Beaches," Dean said sarcastically.

"Look, smartass, she might kill someone," Sam told his brother. "We gotta find her, Dean."

"Yeah. All right," Dean said, focusing. "She, uh, she clipped Matt because he was cheating, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, it takes two to, you know, have hardcore sex," Dean pointed out.

"Dean!" Calypso exclaimed, hitting him lightly. He laughed.

"What?" he asked innocently. "I don't know, it just seemed that, uh, Angela's roommate was broken up over Matt's death. I mean, like, really broken up."

They got to Lindsey's house as Angela was about to kill her, using scissors she just took out of her chest. As she pulled Lindsey to her feet, ready to stab her, Sam and Dean started shooting. Angela convulsed as the bullets tore through her chest, but didn't fall backwards. Dean fired the gun again, causing Angela to scream like a wild animal and crash out the window. Dean started to follow as Calypso and Sam ran to Lindsey.

"Gotcha. I gotcha," Sam told the terrified girl.

"It's okay now, you're safe," Calypso added.

Dean came back over to them.

"Damn, that dead chick can run," he told them.

"What now?" Sam asked.

"I say we go have a little chat with Neil," Dean suggested.

Calypso nodded, pale.

"Good idea."

As they drove to Neil's office, Sam discovered that another common way it was said to kill zombies was to nail them back into their graves. How they were going to do that, nobody was sure, but it was better than having no idea how to get rid of Angela.

When Sam, Dean, and Calypso entered, Calypso knew immediately that Angela was hidden somewhere close. The crushing sensation of death was even stronger than at Neil's basement.

"What are you guys doing here?" Neil asked as soon as they opened the door.

"You know, I've heard of people doing some pretty desperate things to get laid, but you, you take the cake," Dean growled.

"Okay. Who are you guys?" Neil asked as he backed up against the wall. He seemed nervous.

"You might want to ask Angela that question," Dean said.

"What?"

"We know what you did," Sam told him. "The ritual? Everything."

Neil scoffed as Calypso turned to look at the closet. Angela was in there, she knew it.

"You're crazy."

"Your girlfriend's past her expiration date and we're crazy?" Dean asked in anger. "When someone's gone, they should stay gone. You don't mess with that kind of stuff."

"Angela killed Matt and tried to kill Lindsey," Calypso revealed. "But you knew that, right?"

"No," Neil said almost calmly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Dean stomped over to the other side of the desk and hauled Neil up by the collar.

"Hey!" he exclaimed. "No more crap, Neil. Matt's blood is on your hands. Now. Me, him, and her can make this right, but you've gotta tell us where she is. Tell us!"

Calypso glanced at Dean, hoping that he'd look at her so she could tell him where Angela was.

"My house," Neil lied, not sounding calm anymore. "She's at my house."

Dean let him go then turned to look at Calypso. She shook her head meaningfully, then jerked it up towards the dead plants by the window. Dean nodded, understanding, and turned back to Neil.

"You sure about that?" he asked.

Neil nodded and looked around nervously as Calypso moved up next to Dean and stood up on tiptoes in order to reach his ear.

"The closet," she hissed. He looked past Neil at the slightly ajar door and thought for a moment, getting a plan together.

"Listen," Dean said. His voice was raised slightly. "It doesn't really matter where she is. There's only one way to stop her. We've got to perform another ritual over her grave, to reverse the one that you did. We're going to need some black root, some, some scar weed, some candles..." Dean paused for a moment, seeming to be confusing himself.

"Don't forget the acacia," Calypso took over. She looked at Neil and crossed her arms. "It's a pretty complicated ritual, but it'll work, no doubts about it. Angela should be dead in, oh, a couple hours I think." She turned to Dean for fake confirmation.

"Yeah, maybe a little less if we're lucky," Dean turned to look at Neil again, seeming to debate something for a moment. "I think you should come with us." Neil said nothing, so Dean continued in a more significant voice. "I'm serious, Neil. Leave with us. Right now."

"No," Neil protested softly, not looking at them. "No."

Dean leaned in as Calypso shook her head in disgust. Didn't Neil see what was going on? What he made? Why wasn't he jumping up to leave with them? It seemed to Calypso that he could be a possible victim of Angela's, if she became angry.

"Listen to me," Dean told the idiotic boy. "Get out of here as soon as you can. But most of all, be cool. No sudden movements. Don't make her mad." He turned around to leave. "Let's go."

"You really think this is going to work?" Sam asked as he, Dean, and Calypso lit candles around Angela's grave.

"No, not really," Dean admitted. "But it was the only thing I could come up with."

There was a sudden noise and Calypso tensed. She felt vulnerable without her knife, even though she knew she didn't really have to protect herself. When she volunteered to be the bait for Angela, though, that was the point Dean argued.

He won, so Sam got up, instead, to lead Angela back to her grave.

After a moment, there was a shot from the trees, accompanied by a feminine scream. Then came loud footsteps coming their way. Dean and Calypso hid to the side, Dean getting his gun ready. As Sam bolted to the grave, he was suddenly tackled by Angela, who twisted his head back, ready to snap it. That's when Dean fired at her, but instead of jerking back, she growled and launched herself at him, knocking the other Winchester down. Angela slapped him across the face with an annoyed sound, then was suddenly shoved aside by a dark shape. Calypso, who had no knife, no weapon, had just joined the fight.

They rolled across the grass for a few yards from the force of Calypso's shove, them climbed to their feet, snarling. Behind Calypso, the Winchesters were cautiously getting to their feet, guns at the ready. The scene seemed about to shatter from the intensity, when Calypso did something she never normally did. She charged first. Angela was taken by surprise and was not ready for the storm of fists and kicks that soon attacked her, forcing her to stumble back, right to the edge of her grave. Calypso, seeing her chance, leapt forward and tackled Angela into the hole. They struggled, but Calypso had nothing to stake Angela to the coffin with.

"Guys!" she called, dodging Angela's flailing arm. Dean, finally remembering his job, picked up a long metal stake and ran toward the open grave, sliding the last few feet on his knees.

"Out of the way!" he ordered.

Calypso rolled over just as Dean dived into the coffin and buried the stake into Angela's chest, pinning her in.

"Wait, don't-!" Angela screamed before Dean drove the stake all the way through. She gasped once, then went limp. Calypso stood as Dean straightened up, panting.

"What's dead should stay dead," he growled.

Calypso looked at Angela's finally dead body, and, for the first time, she understood.

It took a while, but by morning, Angela was buried once again.

"Rest in peace," Sam panted, wiping the sweat off his brow.

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "For good this time, okay?"

They turned away, heading back to the car, exhausted. Sam grunted as he lifted the shovel over his right shoulder.

"You know, that whole fake ritual thing, luring Angela into the cemetery? Pretty sharp," Sam commented.

"Thanks," Dean said.

"But did we have to use me as bait?" Sam asked.

"Hey, I offered," Calypso pointed out. "You two said no, but I still offered."

"You didn't have a weapon," Dean argued.

"Gee, and whose fault was that?" Calypso asked sarcastically. Dean looked away.

"I think she broke my hand," Sam complained.

"You're just too fragile," Dean laughed. "We'll get it looked at later."

He turned back to his mother's grave and paused. Calypso stared at it. If she narrowed her eyes, she could almost see her mom's tombstone instead. Except this one didn't have any flowers growing on it.

"You want to stay for a while?" Sam asked his brother.

"No," Dean told him, turning away.

They paused at the car as Dean turned to Calypso.

"Yes?" she asked expectantly.

"Look, sorry I was a jerk about the whole no fighting thing," Dean began.

"I didn't really obey that rule though, did I?" Calypso asked with a smile.

"Shut up. What I'm saying is, you can have your knife back." He pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to her. She smiled eagerly. "You've earned it. But we've gotta have rules, okay?" Calypso nodded. "For one, no going off on your own with it. I'll hold it if you have... Stuff to do. Two, you only get to use it when you're in a fight. No pulling it out just to admire it. Third, just... Be careful with it, okay? Don't use it on yourself. Got it?"

"Yeah," Calypso agreed grudgingly.

She could work around these rules. Maybe use something else instead. She wouldn't give up so easily.

As they were driving along the highway, Calypso was lost in thought. She realized just how much the Winchesters cared about her, and just how much she was still keeping from them. They deserved to know everything but at the same time... Calypso knew they would freak out. Maybe they wouldn't trust her. All because she-

Calypso's thoughts were cut off by Dean suddenly pulling the impala over and getting out to sit on the hood. She and Sam quickly followed.

"Dean, what is it?" Sam asked.

There was a long pause.

"I'm sorry," Dean finally said.

"For what?" Calypso asked, confused.

"The way I've been acting." Calypso and Sam sat on either side of Dean, close, but giving him some space. "And for Dad. I mean, he was your dad too. And it's my fault that he's gone."

Uh oh.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked.

Calypso didn't trust herself to speak. She would keep her mouth firmly closed. She wouldn't say a word.

"I know you've been thinking it - so have I. Doesn't take a genius to figure it out," Dean told the two. "Back at the hospital, I made a full recovery. It was a miracle. And five minutes later Dad's dead and the Colt's gone."

Calypso bit her lip, feeling her eyes begin to fill with tears.

"Dean," Sam sighed.

"You can't tell me there's not a connection there. I don't know how the demon was involved. I don't know how the whole thing went down exactly. But Dad's dead because of me. And that much I do know."

"We don't know that. Not for sure."

Calypso clenched her fists.

_Don't do it. Don't say anything._

"Sam..." Calypso didn't need to look over to realize he was crying. "You, Callie, and Dad... you're the most important people in my life. And now... I never should've come back, Sam. It wasn't natural. And now look what's come of it. I was dead. And I should have stayed dead. You wanted to know how I was feeling. Well, that's it." Sam nodded sadly. "So tell me. What could you possibly say to make that all right?"

"I'm sorry!" Calypso exclaimed suddenly, burying her face in her hands. "I-I didn't want-"

She was cut off by her own sobs.

"Callie?" Sam asked cautiously, getting up and standing in front of her. "What's wrong?"

"He-he shouldn't have - it should've been me!" Calypso cried.

"What are you talking about?"

"The demon d-didn't want your Dad at first," Calypso admitted. "I-I was supposed to be taken not him!" She clenched her fists. "Why did he refuse the deal? Why didn't he let the demon take me? Why am I still here, but he's dead?!"

It was quiet.

"Are you saying-"

"Your Dad made a deal," Calypso explained, finally looking up through her fingers. She looked at Dean. "With the demon. He wanted the two of us back, safe, and was trying to just offer up the Colt but... Well, the demon thought that wasn't enough. He wanted me. Nothing worth..." She choked on her words for a moment. "But your Dad refused. He-he didn't want the demon to take me... So the demon took him." She looked up at the stunned Winchesters. "I'm sorry!" she squeaked. "I didn't mean - I didn't want this to happen!"

Sam exchanged a look with Dean as Calypso put her face back in her hands, shaking. So that was what she had been hiding. That was why she had been so upset. That's why... That's why she was so opposed to the idea of not harming herself.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Sam asked.

"He told me not to," Calypso said with a firm shake of her head.

"The demon?"

"Your Dad."

"He told you?"

"After I confronted him," Calypso admitted. "He didn't want you two to know. He didn't want..." She sighed and a single tear ran down her face. "He told me not to tell you, but keeping something like that? I couldn't do it. I couldn't stand being the only one knowing."

"How did you know in the first place?" Dean asked.

"The demon told me. It told me all about it. It told me how... How I'm responsible for your dad's death."

"That's ridiculous."

"No," Calypso disagreed quietly, shaking her head. "It's true. He should've lived. He was better than I am. I'm just... Not worth any of this. I didn't need to be saved. I would've been fine."

"Callie-"

"I should've stayed behind, Dean!" Calypso yelled, frustrated. "The demons are gonna get me someday, somehow. Handing me over a little sooner wouldn't have hurt anyone."

"Except you."

"Who cares?! I certainly don't! You think I'm not used to it? The pain, the suffering, the torture? That's my life! I just don't care anymore! I'm done with it. I'm done with everything. And if you two weren't so god damn stubborn, you would let me deal with it!"

With that, she got up and ran back to the rear seat of the car, leaving a shocked silence behind.

The Winchesters didn't see her tears.


	17. Chapter 17

Croatoan.

Even thinking the word made Calypso shudder. The last twenty-four hours had been a nightmare. After Sam had gotten another strange vision, he had convinced Dean and Calypso to go to a town in Oregon, where he thought Dean would kill a seemingly innocent young man. It turned out that the entire town turned into zombies from some demonic virus. They spent the night in a small medical center, where Sam had been infected a few hours later. Dean and Calypso couldn't kill Sam, though, so they stayed behind, Dean acting suicidal and Calypso acting strangely quiet. She had been a bit quiet for a couple days after she revealed what John Winchester had done, but this had been different. She had thought that both Sam and Dean were going to die and that she would be the only one alive... Again.

Calypso couldn't have that. So she stayed behind with them, hoping that the virus would infect her and turn her into a zombie, possibly killing her in the process. But Sam never turned. They had left the town very confused, but alive. As Calypso stared out over the river the impala was parked near, she thought about it. What had happened seemed impossible. If she hadn't lived it, she would have thought the story was insane. But it wasn't.

"So. Last night," Sam began, from Calypso's side. He and Dean were drinking beer on the edge of the river, leaning on the fence. "You want to tell me what the hell you were talking about?"

"What do you mean?" Dean asked innocently.

"What do I mean? I mean you said you were tired of the job. And that it wasn't just because of Dad," Sam told his brother.

"Forget it."

"Dean, Sam and I both heard it," Calypso pointed out. "You can't pretend you said nothing."

"Come on guys, I thought we were all going to die, you can't hold that over me,"

Dean protested.

"No, no, no, no. You can't pull that crap with me, man," Sam persisted. "You're talking."

"And what if I don't?"

"We won't stop asking," Calypso said, turning around. "We'll ask every waking moment and eventually invade your dreams and ask there, too." She smiled sweetly. "Just saying."

Dean stayed quiet for a moment, considering his response.

"I don't know," Dean said. "I just think maybe we ought to... go to the Grand Canyon."

"What?" Sam asked, confused.

"Yeah, you know, all this driving back and forth across country, you know I've never been to the Grand Canyon?" Dean told Sam and Calypso. "Or we could go to T.J. Or Hollywood, see if we can bang Lindsey Lohan."

"What about Disneyland? I've never been to Disneyland," Calypso added, smiling excitedly. Her face quickly faded into her usual sad expression. "But what about the job? We can't just bail and let people die."

"It won't be forever," Dean explained. "I just think we should take a break from all this. Why do we gotta get stuck with all the responsibility, you know? Why can't we live life a little bit?"

"Why are you saying all this?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head, turning away. Calypso looked at him sadly. He didn't want to talk about it. She knew the look. It was the one she saw whenever she looked in the mirror.

"No, no, no, no, Dean. You're my brother, all right? Our brother," Sam corrected quickly. "So whatever weight you're carrying, let us help a little bit."

"I can't," Dean seemed to tell himself. "I promised."

"Who?"

Dean looked up and paused.

"Dad," he finally admitted.

"What are you talking about?"

Dean looked down, two pairs of eyes staring at him, both wanting answers.

"Right before Dad died, he told me something," Dean told the two. He took a deep breath and looked at Sam. "He told me something about you."

"What? Dean, what did he tell you?" Sam asked urgently, getting scared.

"He said that he wanted me to watch out for you, to take care of you," he said, finding it difficult to get the words out. Dean looked at Calypso. "Both of you."

"He told you that a million times," Sam pointed out, but both he and Calypso knew what Dean said wasn't all.

"No, this time was different," Dean insisted. "He said that I had to... save you."

"Save me from what?"

"He just said that I had to save you, that nothing else mattered, and that if I couldn't, I'd..." Dean broke off, upset.

"You'd what, Dean?"

"That I'd have to kill you," Dean finally revealed, choking up. Calypso felt as though she had been shoved backwards. Dean killing Sam? That wouldn't happen. No, it couldn't happen. "He said that I might have to kill you, Sammy."

"Kill me?" Sam asked, shell shocked. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know."

"I mean, he must have had some kind of reason for saying it, right?" Sam said, beginning to yell. "Did he know the demon's plans for me? Am I supposed to go Darkside or something? What else did he say, Dean?"

"Nothing, that's it, I swear."

Calypso bit her lip anxiously, waiting for the explosion.

"How could you not have told me this?"

"Because it was Dad, and he begged me not to," Dean told him.

"Who cares?! Take some responsibility for yourself, Dean!" Sam yelled. "You had no right to keep this from me! It's like Callie and Dad's deal all over again! You should have told us!"

"That was almost a month ago, Sam," Calypso protested quietly, overlapping with Dean.

"You think I wanted this? Huh? I wish to God he'd never opened his mouth!" Dean told his brother, getting just as upset. "Then I wouldn't have to walk around with this screaming in my head all day."

"Glad to know I'm not the only one with that problem, at least," Calypso muttered as Sam turned and took a few steps away, fuming in anger. Calypso watched the two of them, feeling her heart rip in half. To have a parent die is one thing, but to have them leave this bombshell behind... John shouldn't have done that. He should've kept his mouth shut and protected his sons, not warned one that he might have to kill the other!

"We've just got to figure out what's going on, then, what the hell all this means," Sam said, grasping at any solution. There was a pause.

"We do? I've been thinking about this, I think we should just lay low. You know?" Dean suggested. "At least for a while. It'd be safer. And that way I can make sure-"

"What? That I don't turn evil? That I don't turn into some kind of killer?"

"He never said that, Sam," Calypso pointed out calmly. "He was just trying to make a few suggestions. Maybe a break would be good. You two deserve it, after all."

"We'll never get a real break," Dean told her. "Not when there are still things to hunt and kill."

Calypso frowned.

"Like me? Jeez, if you're not careful you will have to waste me one day, Dean," Sam warned.

"I never said that!" Dean yelled. "Dammit, Sam, this whole thing is spinning out of control. All right? You're immune to some weirdo demon virus, and I don't even know what the hell anymore." Sam took a sip of his beer, refusing to talk. "And you're pissed at me, I get it. That's fine, I deserve it. But we lay low until we figure out our next move, okay?"

"Forget it," Sam muttered. He took another sip and turned away.

"Sam, please, man," Dean pleaded, sounding much gentler. "Hey, please." He grabbed his brother's arm and turned him back around. "Just give me some time. Give me some time to think, okay? I'm begging you here, please. Please."

Sam nodded reluctantly as Calypso sighed. She knew Sam wasn't going to give Dean time to think. No, he was going to overreact. As usual.

That night, Calypso stayed awake to make sure Sam wouldn't do anything. Of course, ever since restrictions had been put on the usage of her knife, along with other rules, she wasn't allowed to get out of her bed at night until Sam and Dean woke her up. She had actually been getting better because of everything they had done. Yes, she still wanted to slash her wrists, but the temptation was lessening as the Winchesters watched over her.

As she pretended to sleep, she watched Sam get out of bed and start packing. She slowly slipped out from under the covers and followed him outside.

"Where are you going?" she asked, watching him pick the lock on a random car.

"Callie," Sam sighed, freezing. "I should've known you would follow me."

"What do you expect? I'm never actually sleeping."

Sam turned around cautiously, taking in her protective stance.

"Look, Callie-"

"Really, Sam?" Calypso interrupted. "Come on. You don't have to run from this. Dean's just trying to help. So am I. You know we would never hurt you, right?"

"I know you both would do anything to save everyone you can."

"Not if it means killing you," she insisted. "Please don't go. You don't need to."

"I'm sorry," Sam said, not looking at her.

She sighed as he turned away, knowing she had to do anything to make him stay. Sam knew she would, too. That's why he turned around suddenly and punched her in the face.

Calypso fell to the ground, unconscious immediately. Sam knew he hit her temple, which would give a normal person a concussion, but he figured she would be fine. He stared at her regretfully for a moment, then turned back to the car and left, leaving her behind.

She wouldn't wake up until Dean came out to look. Even then, Sam was gone without a trace.

As Dean and Calypso drove along in the impala, looking for Sam, a cellphone rang.

"Hello?" Dean answered. Calypso looked up from her book. "One sec, I'm gonna put you on speaker."

As Dean took the phone away from his head, he told Calypso it was Ellen on the other end.

"Hey, have you heard from Sam?" Dean asked her after he pressed the button.

"I have, but he made me promise not to tell you where he is," Ellen revealed.

"Come on, Ellen, please," Dean begged as Calypso sighed in disappointment. "Something bad could be going on here, and I swore I'd look after that kid."

"Now Dean, they say you can't protect your loved ones forever." There was a beat as Dean and Calypso exchanged a frustrated look. All they wanted to do was find Sam. Was it really that bad? "Well, I say screw that," Ellen continued. Calypso grinned, hopeful at last. "What else is family for? He's in Lafayette, Indiana."

"Thanks," Dean said before hanging up the phone. He put it down.

"Oh, thank god he's okay!" Calypso exclaimed. Dean frowned.

"Yeah, but for how long?"

It turned out that Sam was at a place called the Blue Rose Motel. As Dean and Calypso pulled into the parking lot, they spotted Sam through the window of his room. They sighed in relief.

"Oh, thank god you're okay," Dean said.

Sam moved aside, revealing a brown haired girl through the window. Calypso raised her eyebrows. Sam hooking up with a girl? That wasn't normal. There had to be some sort explanation for this.

"Oh, you're better than okay. Sam, you sly dog!" Dean exclaimed with a smile. Calypso elbowed him lightly, also smiling. They watched for a few minutes to make sure everything was okay. It seemed to be - until Sam and the girl became the targets of a sniper.

Their window shattered as the first bullet hit, just barely missing the two of them. Calypso immediately ripped the seatbelt off and sprinted from the car to the direction that the shots were being fired from, Dean following close behind.

She was the first on the roof, but froze when she saw who the attacker was.

"Gordon," she whispered as he fired another shot. He was aiming again when he was suddenly jumped from behind. Dean had come to his senses long before Calypso.

"Gordon!" Dean yelled angrily before he kicked the man and pinned him down on his back. Calypso ran up as Dean began hitting Gordon in the face continuously. He suddenly stopped and grabbed the man's collar.

"You do that to my brother, I'll kill you!" Dean yelled, his voice raw with fury.

"Dean, wait," Gordon said calmly.

Dean wouldn't hear it, and Calypso agreed. She wanted to gut the man just as much as Dean did. But before either of them could, Gordon managed to grab the rifle and hit Dean with it, twice. He fell over, unconscious. Calypso clenched her teeth and tightened her grip on her knife, prepared to slaughter Gordon like an animal. But as she charged forward, her vision turning red, Gordon raised his rifle to aim at her skull. She didn't have time to blink before he pulled the trigger.

Calypso could feel the bullet hit her, shattering like glass and exploding around her. But she stumbled back, suddenly weak. It had taken a lot of energy to survive that shot. Too much. She hadn't tried to kill herself in a while, and that had made her so much weaker. She looked up to glare at Gordon as she stumbled backwards, then fell to her knees.

Everything went black.

Calypso's arms were tied high above her head when she woke up. She tugged down in confusion. What had happened? When she opened her eyes, she remembered. Gordon had knocked her and Dean out as he tried to kill Sam. Sam! Calypso tugged harder. He was okay, wasn't he? He had to be, he just had to!

Calypso tried to move her legs forward, then realized that they, too, were tied to the wooden wall she was slumped against. Sighing, she leaned backwards, exhausted. Calypso needed time to recover. Lots of it. Unfortunately, she didn't have any. Footsteps echoed around the room as Gordon entered and Calypso clenched her fists.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," she said dryly. Gordon looked at her with anger filling his eyes, then stomped over. Calypso smiled innocently up at him, knowing he wasn't going to just take the insult. She couldn't help but think she was right as Gordon swung his foot back and kicked her in the stomach. Her lip began to bleed as she bit it, not letting herself make any noise.

"Shut up, bitch," he growled.

"Ouch, that hurt almost as much as the kick," she told him sarcastically. "By the way, you could use some improvement. You kick like a ten year old."

He turned away and Calypso looked around the room. It was a rotting old place that smelled like wet wood. That's what it was made of, after all. As her eyes wandered the room, she noticed a chair in the center, a familiar, unconscious figure sitting on it.

"Dean," Calypso whispered. She looked around nervously, hoping she didn't catch Gordon's attention. Gordon, now in the next room, didn't hear her. "Dean, dammit, wake up!"

As Dean began to shift in the chair, Gordon walked back in. He searched through a duffel bag.

"Whatcha looking for?" Calypso asked, craning her neck to see what he had.

"Nothing you need to worry about," Gordon replied calmly. "Probably won't kill you, anyway."

"Reassuring," she muttered, looking back over at Dean. He suddenly opened his eyes and straightened up, awake at last. "Finally."

"Dean," Gordon said, sounding pleased. "I was wondering when you would wake up."

"Glad I was a source of entertainment," Dean growled. He looked around and noticed Calypso behind him. "You okay, Callie?"

"Oh yeah, just peachy," she told him, dripping sarcasm. He grinned proudly. "You?"

"Never better," Dean replied in the same tone. "So, Gordy, what's the plan?"

"Wait," Gordon explained. "Sammy will call eventually. Until then, we wait."

After a few minutes of total silence, Gordon was proved correct. Dean's ringtone echoed around the room, coming from Gordon's bag. He went over and pulled it out with a triumphant smile. In his other hand was a gun that he pointed at Dean. Gordon ordered Dean to say exactly what he wanted him to, or he would shoot him. Dean didn't really have any choice but to do what Gordon said.

"Hello?" Dean answered the phone that Gordon held to his ear. It was so quiet in the room, Calypso could hear Sam's faint reply without the phone being on speaker.

"Dean! Is Callie with you?"

"Yeah, she's here. Sam, we've been looking for you," Dean said stiffly.

"Yeah. Look, I'm in Indiana, uh Lafayette."

"I know."

"You do?"

"Yeah, I talked to Ellen. Just got here myself. It's a real funky town." Calypso stifled a grin, knowing what Dean just did. "You ditched us, Sammy."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. Look, right now there's someone after me."

Oh, really?

"What? Who?" Dean asked, feigning surprise.

"I don't know, that's what we need to find out. Where are you?"

"I'm staying at, uh, 5637 Monroe St." The address Gordon told him to tell his brother. "Why don't you meet me here?"

"Yeah. Sure."

He hung up.

"You bastard," Calypso told Gordon clearly. "I'm gonna kill you."

"I'd like to see you try," Gordon shot back. He turned to Dean. "Now, was that so hard?"

"Bite me."

It was quiet for a while as Dean and Calypso both tried to get out of their ropes, with no success.

"So Gordy. I know me and Sam and Callie ain't exactly your favorite people, but don't you think this is a little extreme?" Dean asked out of the blue as Gordon searched through his bag and pulled out weapons.

"What, you think this is revenge?" Gordon asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

"Well, we did leave you tied up in your own mess for three days." Dean laughed. "Which was awesome." He suddenly stopped and pretended to stifle his grin. "Sorry, I shouldn't laugh."

"Yeah. I was definitely planning on whuppin' your ass for that," Gordon began.

"As if you could," Calypso muttered.

"But that's not what this is. This isn't personal," Gordon claimed. "I'm not a killer, Dean. I'm a hunter. And your brother and sister are fair game."

Calypso shrunk back into the wall. Fair game?

She was being hunted?

"See, I was doing an exorcism down in Louisiana," Gordon told them after a moment, cradling a rifle in his hand. He was speaking casually, as if they were talking about the weather. "Teenage girl, like you actually," Gordon said as he looked at Calypso. "Had the whole black hair thing going. Anyway, seemed routine, some low-level demon. But between all the jabbering and the head-spinning, the damn thing muttered something. About a coming war. And I don't think it meant to, it just kind of slipped out. But it was too late. Piqued my interest. And you can really make a demon talk, you got the right tools."

"What about the girl?" Calypso asked, concerned.

"She didn't make it," Gordon admitted, not sounding the least bit regretful.

"You killed an innocent girl," Calypso growled, pulling at her ropes.

"It was a sacrifice that needed to happen."

"It was a decision you wrongfully made!" Calypso yelled. "Just because you can take somebody's life, doesn't mean you should, you son of a bitch!"

Gordon stared at her for a moment before he stood up and walked over. Calypso, fuming in anger, glared right back. Then, out of the blue, Gordon's hand smacked across her face. Calypso hissed in pain as she looked down at the ground. Dean tugged at his ropes angrily.

"That's my momma you're talking about," Gordon said calmly. There was a beat.

"Anyway. This demon tells me there are soldiers to fight in this coming war. Humans, fighting on hell's side. You believe that? I mean, they're psychics, so they're not exactly pure humans, but still. What kind of worthless scumbag have you got to be to turn against your own race?" Dean and Calypso's glares cut through Gordon like knives. "But you know the biggest kick in the ass? This demon said I knew one of them. Our very own Sammy Winchester. And it also told me dear little Calypso had her part to play, too. Didn't say what it was, but I think you can imagine."

"Please, you think I'm gonna fight on Hell's side?" Calypso asked. "Like, really? There's no freaking way." She shook her head. "I'd die first. Sam would, too, I know it. I mean, are you crazy? How would either of us join forces with demons?

"Come on, Calypso. I know. About Sam's visions. About your abilities. I know everything."

Calypso blinked, taken aback, and Dean took over.

"Really? Because a demon told you?" Dean laughed. "Yeah, and it wasn't lying."

"Hey, Dean. I'm not some reckless yahoo, okay? I did my homework. Made damn sure it was true," Gordon explained. "Look, you've got your Roadhouse connections, I got mine. It's how I found Sammy in the first place." He crossed to the corner and sat. "About a month ago I found another one of these freaks here in town. He could deep-fry a person just by touching them."

"Did he kill anyone?" Calypso asked.

"Well, besides Mr. Tinkles the cat? No. But he was working up to it. They're all gonna be killers, Dean. We've got to take them all out. And that means Sammy too."

He cocked the rifle.

"You think Sam's stupid enough to walk through that front door?" Dean asked.

"No, I don't. Especially since I'm sure you found a way to warn him. Ha. You really think I'm that stupid?"

"Yeah, absolutely," Calypso told him. She smiled.

"You watch your mouth," Gordon warned, stepping forward. Calypso glared at him challengingly. "But anyway, Sammy's going to scope the place first, see me covering the front door. So he's going to take the back. And when he does he'll hit the tripwire. Then-" He took a grenade out of his bag. "Boom."

"Sam's not gonna fall for a friggin' tripwire," Dean said confidently.

"Maybe you're right. That's why I'll have a second one." There was silence as Dean and Calypso both panicked silently. "Hey, look. I'm sorry. I wish I didn't have to do this, I really do. But for what it's worth, it'll be quick. Quicker than what it'll take to kill her." Gordon nodded in the direction of Calypso. She sighed.

"You're really gonna try to experiment again? I promise, nothing will kill me. I've already tried everything," Calypso said.

"No, you can't be killed," Gordon agreed. "But you can be knocked out. And I bet the more injuries you have, the longer you'll be gone." He smiled and Calypso widened her eyes. "We'll just have to wait until after I take care of Sam."

"You're sick," she growled. But she knew he was also correct.

"Am I?" Gordon asked. "Or are you?"

As Gordon set up the tripwire, Dean and Calypso had a silent conversation.

"You okay?" he mouthed. Calypso nodded and looked over at the doorway nervously.

"Is Sam gonna be?" she mouthed back.

Dean looked away, not able to answer the question. At that moment, Gordon walked back in and straddled the chair next to Dean.

"Come on, man," Dean begged. "I know Sam, okay, better than anyone. He's got more of a conscience than I do, I mean, the guy feels guilty surfing the Internet for porn."

"Okay, too much information," Calypso told him. He shrugged sheepishly.

"Maybe you're right," Gordon admitted. "But one day he's going to be a monster."

"How? Huh? How's a guy like Sam become a monster?" Dean challenged.

"Beats me. But he will." He looked over at Calypso. "So will you," Gordon told her confidently.

"You keep saying that, but you have no proof!" Calypso exclaimed, fed up.

"I have all the proof I need," Gordon said. "You both will become monsters."

"No, you don't know that!" Dean yelled.

"I'm surprised at you, Dean. Both of you, really. Getting all emotional. I'd heard you two were more professional than this." Gordon paused for a moment as Calypso continually thought, _I'm gonna kill you_. "Look, let's say you were cruising around in that car of yours and, uh, you had little Hitler riding shotgun, right? Back when he was just some goofy, crappy artist. But you knew what he was going to turn into someday. You'd take him out, no questions, am I right?"

"That's not Sam," Dean disagreed. "And that sure as hell ain't Callie either!"

"Yes it is. You just can't see it yet. Dean, it's their destiny. Look, I'm sympathetic. He's your brother, she's your sister, you love them both. This has got to hurt like hell for you." He reached into his bag and pulled out a scarf.

"But here's the thing." He turned back to Dean and tied it around his mouth, though Dean struggled, effectively gagging him. "It would wreck him. But your dad? If it really came right down to it, he would have had the stones to do the right thing here. But you're telling me you're not the man he is?"

Dean glared at Gordon furiously.

"No, Dean is twice the man John ever was," Calypso told Gordon quickly, knowing she would be gagged next. "Because Dean, unlike John, understands that family comes before everything. That you shouldn't give up on them. Stuff that a loner like you wouldn't understand."

Gordon took out another scarf and made his way to her without speaking. As he reached down to tie it, Calypso stretched her neck forward quickly and bit down on Gordon's hand - hard. As he cried out and jerked back, Calypso tasted blood.

"You bitch!" Gordon yelled, losing his usual calm demeanor.

Calypso smiled at him threateningly; her teeth were red. Gordon stepped back nervously.

"You can't contain me," she warned, still smiling. "You can try, but in the end I'll break out. I always do."

Gordon was able to gag Calypso eventually, once enough punches were thrown. As they sat in silence, Calypso slumped over slightly, small clicks suddenly came from the next room, as if the lock was being picked. Sam! Dean and Calypso began to look around wildly, panicking.

"Ya hear him?" Gordon whispered.

Calypso would kill him. She would murder him.

The door creaked open.

"Here he comes," Gordon explained.

Then the first grenade went off.

Calypso flinched helplessly and screamed, trying to tell Gordon just how she would tear him apart. Dean was doing the same. She began to tug harder on the ropes. Were they really loosening or was that just her imagination?

"Hold on. Not yet," Gordon guessed quietly. "Just wait and see."

The second grenade exploded, sending bits of debris into the room. Once again, Calypso screamed, but this time she also shook with sob after sob. Sam was dead. Dean seemed to be choking on his cries as Gordon crossed the room and stopped beside him.

"Sorry, Dean," he said before going into the other room. Calypso growled into her gag and pulled at her ropes, getting angry. Scarily angry. For some reason, the ropes on her wrists seemed to be warming up.

There was low mumbling in the next room and Calypso figured it was just Gordon talking to himself when she heard a voice raising.

"Put it down now!" Sam roared.

Calypso could've cried, but all she did was sigh, more than relieved. Dean grunted in relief and turned. Calypso couldn't hear every word being said, but she got the gist of it. Gordon was telling Sam of how Dean seemed to think he was a saint, but Sam told Gordon not to be so sure.

Then they started to fight. There were thumps and grunts coming from the other room as Calypso struggled to get out of the ropes. Dean groaned in frustration, not getting anywhere. But the more Calypso tugged, the angrier she got, until she was about to blow up. She felt a sudden heat around her wrists and looked back. Her eyes widened as the ropes burned away right in front of her.

Calypso brought her newly freed hands up to her face and stared in amazement for a moment before remembering she had to help. She first untied her gag, then jumped up quickly and skidded over to Dean, cutting him free.

As she started towards the next room, Sam shuffled in, looking exhausted.

"Sam!" Calypso exclaimed, running forward and wrapping her arms around him. He seemed taken aback, then returned the hug.

"Hey Callie," Sam said, holding her close. "You and Dean okay?"

"Yeah," she told him. "We're good now."

Dean walked up to his brother at that moment, emotion shining in his green eyes. Sam clapped him on the shoulder in greeting, then Dean put his hand on Sam's neck and stared at him closely, cataloging his injuries. Sam nodded at him and clapped a hand on Dean's shoulder again. Dean wheeled around to the back room angrily.

"That son of a..." Dean muttered as he prepared to go in and kill Gordon.

"Dean. No," Sam told him.

"I let him live once," Dean pointed out. "He was trying to kill Callie and I let him go. I'm not making the same mistake twice."

"Trust me," Sam told his brother. Calypso looked between the two and smiled. "Gordon's taken care of. Come on."

He grabbed Dean's jacket and pulled him towards the front door. Calypso took one last perplexed look at the corner she had been tied up in, then followed them out.

They walked down the steps from the cabin, Sam staggering slightly. Calypso stood behind the two, making sure Gordon wouldn't suddenly come and hit them from behind. It was a good idea, seeing as Gordon emerged from the cabin a moment later, a gun in each hand, and began firing. Sam and Dean ducked and ran for cover, Calypso doing her best to guard them from behind.

"Come on!" Dean exclaimed as they ran. "You call this taken care of?" Sam and Dean dove into a ditch by the side of the road. As she neared them, Calypso felt a bullet hit her skull and shatter. She stumbled and fell into the ditch a moment later. She was caught by Sam and straightened up to watch Gordon's approach. "What the hell are we doing?"

"Just trust me on this, all right?" Sam told his brother, waiting.

As Gordon came closer, three police card pulled into the clearing and surrounded Gordon, sirens blaring. Cops emerged as soon as the cars stopped, weapons at the ready.

"Drop your weapons! Get down on your knees!" one ordered.

"Do it, now!" another yelled.

Calypso laughed quietly and shared a grin with Sam and Dean as Gordon dropped to his knees and glared in their direction.

"Put your hands on your head. Easy now."

A cop cuffed Gordon and patted him down, then led him to a squad car. Another opened the back door of Gordon's red car and pulled out the weapons rack.

"Anonymous tip," Sam admitted. Calypso laughed.

"You're a fine upstanding citizen, Sam," Dean complimented his brother with a grin.

Back on the road, Calypso voiced her worries about freeing herself to Sam and Dean.

"And I just saw the ropes burn up right in front of me," she described, confused.

"And you did it?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," she told him. "I was so mad and I just kept pulling on them and they suddenly were set on fire."

It was quiet. Nobody knew how to respond.

"I got nothing," Dean finally said. "It just... It makes no sense."

"It never does," Calypso agreed angrily. "Why doesn't it? I just... I'm tired of only questions. For once, I just want answers! Why can't I ever get one hint?"

"I'm sure we'll find some eventually," Sam assured her. Calypso nodded glumly.

"I'm just tired," she told them. "I mean, I only want to know what I am. Can't I just have that? Why am I such a freak?!"

"You're not a freak," Dean told her calmly.

"Yes, I am," Calypso disagreed. "Gordon's right. Something like me... Well, it deserves to be killed. Something that brings that much misery around with it should die."

"Callie, listen to me," Dean said, pulling the car over and turning around to face her. "I don't know why you think like this, but it isn't true. Whatever your dad tried to teach you-"

"My dad didn't have to teach me anything," Calypso tried to tell them. "I already knew. He didn't do a single thing!"

"If he didn't do anything, then why did you run away in the first place?!" Dean yelled, frustrated.

"You don't understand, I needed to get away!" she told him, raising her voice. She covered her face, feeling vulnerable. "Everyone at school, even out of it... You have no clue what it's like, not having a single friend, not a single person who will stand up for you. Well, one, or so you think. Until you realize she's one of them. And then-" Calypso, by now, was shaking. "Then you confront her and accidentally..." She shook her head in confusion, not remembering anything after that except shock and fear. "And then she goes and kills herself!" She looked up between her fingers at Sam and Dean. "Do you understand? The one person I thought I could trust..."

Sam and Dean blinked in astonishment.

"And you ran away after that?"

"As soon as I found her," Calypso admitted. "Jumped on the first train out of town. As far away from there as possible."

Calypso looked out the window, remembering the confusion and terror that came that day. Not to mention the guilt. Calypso didn't run away because of her dad, no.

She ran away because she as good as killed her only friend.


	18. Chapter 18

_Unknown Figure Haunts Colorado Graveyard_

_Locals in Angalieka, Colorado have lately been complaining about a ghostly figure haunting their local graveyard. They describe this figure as being female with blonde hair and blue eyes, wearing a white dress. It is suspected that whoever this is has vandalized the grave of Sera Giaro, a girl who died almost a year ago. Anyone who sees this person is suggested to call the police. They are likely a prankster..._

Calypso tore her eyes up from the newspaper, blinking in confusion. There's no way...

"I know where we need to go next," she announced, walking into the motel room. Sam and Dean looked up from their searching for a case.

"Where?" Sam asked.

"Angalieka, Colorado," she told them. Calypso was about to turn away, but Dean interrupted her.

"Why do we need to go there?" he asked.

"Locals have been seeing a ghost in the cemetery," she told him.

"Yeah, I just saw that online," Sam told her. "It never said that it was a ghost. It never even implied that. It just said whoever it was vandalized a grave."

"That's not much to go on," Dean agreed.

"We're going," Calypso ordered stubbornly. She turned to get her things again.

"Why?"

"Because the ghost was my friend," she told them, turning around to face them. "And I know what she wants."

It was a long ride to Colorado, leaving plenty of time to talk. The conversation soon drifted into dangerous territory for Calypso.

"So, this is your home town?" Dean asked. "Angalieka?"

"Yeah."

"Aren't you worried about going back?" Sam wondered. "I mean, your mom-"

"You don't have to say it," Calypso interrupted. "Trust me, I know."

"And the murderer is still walking free," Dean added. "Maybe he's still around there."

"I wouldn't know even if I saw him," Calypso admitted.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't remember what he looked like," she told them. "I think I blocked out the memory." Calypso frowned in concentration. "The only thing I can remember is this - this pair of bright red eyes. That's it."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look.

"Like a demon?" Sam asked.

"No, no, not completely red. The eyes were human, just red instead of any normal color," Calypso described. "And I remember so much anger in them. The man wanted to kill and torture. He had everything planned out." Calypso seemed to be thinking aloud at this point. "He had all the weapons. The knives, the needles, the baseball bats... He even had acid. Who thinks to bring acid?" The Winchesters looked at each other uneasily. "He planned it. All of it. He must've chosen his target in advance, too." Calypso's eyes seemed to darken and her voice seemed to drop an octave. "Which is why he'd better hope to never run into me again. Because if he does, I will tear him to shreds."

Angalieka was just as Calypso remembered. Each house she passed was huge with plenty of space between it and the next. Trees lined the side of the road. As she climbed out of the impala when she, Sam, and Dean checked into a motel for the night, she noticed it even smelled the same.

"So," Sam began, throwing one of the bags onto the bed. "Are we going to talk about this or not?"

"About what?" Calypso asked him.

"Who is this spirit that we're trying to send away?" he clarified.

Calypso turned away and began to set her things down.

"Her name is-" she caught herself and looked at her hands. "Was, Sera. She died a little over a year ago."

"Do you know how?"

Calypso's answer was short and to the point.

"She committed suicide. I'm gonna go take a walk."

"I should go with you," Dean offered.

"I'm fine," Calypso told him.

"Look, bad things have happened here," Dean persisted. "I'm trying to make sure you don't get hurt."

"Trust me, I won't," Calypso said. "Even if something does happen, I can defend myself."

"Sam, you stay here and unpack a bit," Dean ordered. Sam nodded and unzipped a duffel bag. Dean turned back to Calypso. "Now I'm going with you, no complaining."

Calypso shook her head in exhaustion and rolled her eyes. Whatever.

"Okay, well, come on," she said, walking to the door. "I'm not waiting for you."

Dean quickly caught up to her and looked back at Sam, who nodded seriously. Dean mirrored the gesture and left. The real reason that Dean was accompanying Calypso wasn't that he wanted to protect her, though that was certainly part of it. He wanted to make sure she didn't go back home, back to her father. If she did that, he didn't know what he and Sam would do. Maybe they'd kill the man. That sounded good to him. But first, he had to make sure Calypso didn't pay him a visit.

They walked along the side of the road in silence. Calypso did her best to stay a few steps ahead of Dean, but he kept catching up.

"Could you stop that?" she asked, annoyed.

"Stop what?" Dean wondered innocently. She turned and glared at him as he smiled.

"Stop keeping up with me!" she ordered.

"Why?"

"Well, usually when people go out to take a walk, they want some space," Calypso told him, stopping. He paused as well. "I just wanted some time to myself."

"I get it," Dean told her. "Trust me, I get it. But Sam and I don't want anything to happen to you while we're here."

"Nothing's going to happen to me," Calypso tried to convince him.

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do," she insisted. "The murderer disappeared a long time ago. He can't get to me. And if he tries..." Calypso smiled darkly. "Well, it wouldn't end well for him."

"What would you do?"

"I would do to him what he did to Mom and me." Calypso threatened. She turned to Dean and sighed. "He took away everything. I just... I want at least a bit of payback."

Before Dean could say what he wanted to next, a black SUV pulled up next to them. Dean turned around quickly and pushed Calypso away.

"Stay back!" he ordered as the door opened and a man got out.

He wore a dark jacket with a hood covering his face. The man stepped towards them. Something about him seemed familiar. Very familiar.

"Who are you?" Dean asked.

The man didn't answer, he only came closer. He was only a few feet away from Dean when there was a sudden change in the air.

"Agh!" Dean cried out, falling to the sidewalk. Calypso rushed forward, despite Dean's earlier instructions, to make sure he was okay. By some miracle he was still awake and moving, just very, very weak.

"What did you do?" Calypso screeched.

The man looked at her, then reached up and put his hood down, revealing his thin face. Calypso inhaled sharply. Blond hair, brown eyes, permanently angry expression... She knew who this was.

"Daddy?"

"She's gone!" Dean yelled, punching open the door to the motel room. Sam looked up from his laptop quickly.

"What do you mean?" he asked, getting up in a hurry.

"Her dad pulled up and... Damn it, Sam, he's not human!" He kicked the bed. "The guy didn't even touch me and I was down. And when Callie found out it was her dad, she just went with him!"

"She... She just left?"

"Yes, Sam, she left, okay? So we have to get her back!"

Sam stood up slowly, still in shock.

"Do we even know where she used to live?" he asked sensibly. Dean stopped in his tracks by the door.

"No," he admitted. Sam typed some things into his laptop and shut it.

"27 Damenil Street," he announced as he put on his coat.

"Okay, let's go," Dean said, turning to the door.

"Dean, wait," Sam said suddenly. Dean turned around, tired of stopping. He only wanted to find Calypso. He didn't have time to think. "What if she doesn't want to leave?"

"Of course she'll want to leave."

"But what if she doesn't?"

Dean stared at his brother.

"Are you saying we should leave her with her abusive father?"

"We can't exactly force her to come, can we?"

"The man isn't human," Dean said again slowly, so Sam wouldn't miss the point. "We have to kill him anyway. So, yeah, we can force her to come if we need to. She won't have anywhere else to go."

"Fine," Sam surrendered with a sigh. Dean ran to the impala and got in. Sam calmly left the motel room at a slow pace.

He slammed the door, hard, behind him.

Calypso sat in the dark basement, feeling the cool metal of the chains keeping her connected to the wall. She couldn't remember anything that happened after she got into her dad's car except a sharp pain on the back of her head. She tried to reach up, but the chains were shorter than she thought. A steady drip came from the ceiling, creating a puddle next to her. Calypso made a small squeaking noise in her throat and tugged at the chains. This is a place she hadn't been in for over a year. She didn't want to come back to it.

"Calypso, Calypso, Calypso," a voice said from the shadows. She looked down at her lap respectively. "It's been a long time." There was a pause and footsteps echoed around the room. "You ran away."

"Yes, I did," she agreed quietly.

"Why?"

"You remember. I know you do," she said. She bit her tongue. That was disrespectful.

"You didn't answer the question," her father told her sharply. "I'll ask again. Why did you run away?"

"Because of Sera," she whispered. "Because... Because of what happened. I couldn't stay."

"You were a coward," her father said maliciously. "You were a weak, pathetic coward."

"Yes," Calypso whispered. "I know I was."

"Don't feel sorry for yourself!" he roared. "Feel sorry about what you did! I had to persuade the authorities that you were at boarding school. I had to make sure you were forgotten by everyone. Of course, that was a very easy task. They'd forgotten about you, anyway." Something hit the cinderblock wall next to Calypso's face, making her flinch. "They always do. After all, who cares about some depressed little girl who can barely hold herself together on a daily basis?"

He punched her and she looked up pleadingly.

"Please," she begged. "Please, I'm sorry! I didn't want to-"

"LIAR!"

He kicked her in the stomach, but she couldn't curl up and protect herself like she wanted to. No, she was chained to the wall. There was nothing she could do.

There were footsteps as Calypso heard her father go into the connected room. The weapons room. She began to shake in terror.

No, she told herself. Stop it. You can't show weakness. Not now. Save that for when he locks you down here alone, later. He won't like the emotion. He'll only hurt you even more.

When Calypso's father came back, she sat like a statue, emotionless and unmoving. Even as he pulled out a cruelly sharp edged knife, she refused to let fear show on her face. He knelt down next to her.

"You're scared, aren't you?" he whispered, caressing her face with the blade. "I can smell it radiating off you. And you should be." He smiled and forced her head to tilt up by putting the knife under her chin. "I've gotten bored over the past year. Now I'm going to make up for it."

He sliced a deep line through her stomach, making her cry out. She thrashed, but was kept on the wall. There was no break before he made another line of blood. It crossed her mind that most people know pain in limited amounts. They could never imagine anything like this. It felt almost as if hot coals were being shoved into her stomach. She'd forgotten that it could hurt so much. Others who'd tortured her hadn't had the patience to make it really effective, or hadn't had the time. Her father did. He also had practice. Plenty of it.

Knives hurt, yes, but they were only the start of the process. By the time Calypso's father set them down, her entire body was coated in a layer of sticky, dark, blood. She felt a dull pain in her lip. Maybe she bit it while she was screaming. It wouldn't be the first time.

She couldn't see what her father picked up at first, but as he straightened up, it became apparent. A branding iron. Calypso hated this punishment in particular, simply because it hurt so much when the iron touched her skin. Her father had already warmed the first one up in advance, so there was once again no pause before it was pressed against her skin. Calypso screamed, but it ended in a sob as she started to cry. It was weak, very weak, but she couldn't help it. She'd forgotten how hard it was to keep a straight face through the entire session. Over the past year, she had gotten soft. Caring had made her weak, emotional. That was never good in these types of situations. A second burning iron kissed her skin and she once again screamed. The longer the branding iron was on her arm, the worse the pain would get. After ten seconds, she felt as though she was going to pass out.

Branding, thankfully, took a long time for breaks because of the constant heating, so Calypso's father stopped after a couple minutes. Calypso sat blissfully during the few pain free minutes she had as her father took out a metal lined whip. She squeaked and backed up as close to the wall as she could. He walked forward with a sick grin stretching from ear to ear. There was no covering her face as the whip was brought down, leaving a thin, burning line going from her eye to her chin. Calypso didn't have much energy anymore, and could only gasp in protest. Screaming did nothing for her, anyway. The whip was brought down again, this time across her chest. The next few were in a quick succession across her torso. Calypso let herself go limp, but she was still attached to the wall by the chains.

But the whipping was nothing compared to what came next in this sickening order of torture. Her father glared at her, his strangely dull brown eyes staring into hers. Then she started screaming as the pain crashed into her.

This was new to Calypso. She thought she knew torture. She thought she knew pain. She didn't. Whatever was happening, was the worst pain she'd ever experienced - and that was saying something. It felt like everything. Every torture she'd ever experienced, every time she'd been in any pain, she could feel. If she focused, Calypso could make out the scorching of a branding iron and the slice of knives. There was the sting of a whip, the repeated hits of a beating, the burn of acid eating her skin, and so much more that she couldn't place. And she screamed. Oh, she screamed. It was a long, unbroken sound that she didn't know she could make. It wasn't pain. It was pure agony.

"Well, I think that was therapeutic for both of us," Calypso's father told her after he was finished, kneeling down next to her. She shrunk away in fear. "But there's one more thing..."

Calypso couldn't breathe. No, no, no! This couldn't happen, not again. She thought things were bad with the shapeshifter, but this... Nobody would be here to stop it. Nobody would save her from the violation and embarrassment.

"Oh calm down," her father ordered as Calypso began to hyperventilate. "You know you deserve it."

Calypso nodded as a single tear made its way down her cheek.

During the next hour, she only survived by repeatedly telling herself that she deserved every second of the worst punishment so far. It was her fault in the first place, after all.

"Come on," Dean whispered to Sam as he picked the lock on the window in the back of Calypso's house. It popped open and the two snuck into the living room. The entire house was silent, eerily so.

"Where is she?" Sam asked quietly.

A squeaking noise came from below Dean's feet. He looked down at the bent rug. It seemed almost as if someone had put it down in a hurry. He moved it aside and narrowed his eyes. Underneath where he had been standing, a trap door was cut into the floor. Sam opened it and peered into the choking darkness it lead into. All he could make out were the first few rungs of a wooden ladder. He turned to Dean who motioned for him to go down. He did, with Dean close behind him.

The ladder was very tall, guiding them down twelve feet into a dark hallway. Keeping close together, the brothers walked down it until they reached a cave - like room that it lead into. And on the opposite end of it, chained to a wall, sat a very bruised and very bloody-

"Callie!" Dean exclaimed running over. Sam was close behind. The girl looked up, startled, then widened her eyes and started to shake her head frantically at the two as they came forward. It only took a moment for them to figure out why.

_Bang_.

The sound of a heavy door closing shocked the Winchesters, who spun around to see Calypso's father with his back to them as the locked the door leading back into the hallway.

"My, my, my," he said in an eerily calm voice. "What is this? All three of them, walking right into my hands?" He turned around, but was still hard to make out, out of the shadows. "Must be my lucky day." He stepped into the light. "Let's get started, then."

Sam and Dean heard a gasp from behind them and looked back at Calypso, who stared at her father in horror. They turned back to him and widened their eyes. The man still had blond hair and an angry expression, but one thing about his appearance had changed.

His eyes were blood red.


	19. Chapter 19

"It's you," Calypso gasped in horror, staring at her father's red eyes.

"It's me," he replied, amusement clear on his voice.

The Winchesters looked at each other in confusion. The man's eyes weren't completely red. Only the iris was the color. He wasn't a demon. But then, what was he?

"You killed her," Calypso said, shrinking up against the wall. "You killed Mom."

"Yes I did," he agreed. "I killed her and tortured you, too." Calypso shook her head in disbelief. "It was the most fun I've ever had."

"You bastard," Dean growled. He took a gun out of his pocket and pointed it at Calypso's father, who laughed. As the gun was suddenly pulled from his hand and thrown across the room by an invisible force, it became clear why.

"Stupid boy," the man said confidently. "You can't fight me."

"We can try," Sam told him angrily.

Sam charged forward, Dean close behind him, but the two were stopped just a couple feet from Calypso's father, who grinned. Sam was knocked back and hit the wall hard. He fell to the floor, unconscious.

"Sam!" Calypso screamed, trying to get out of the handcuffs.

"Shut up!" her father ordered. She fell silent in fear.

Dean stood before the man angrily, but was still unable to move.

"So you're the Winchesters," Calypso's father said. "I've heard a lot about you.

I must say, you two don't exactly live up to your reputation. Too stupid to realize you were walking into a trap. But I've got you where I want you, now."

"Congratulations," Dean told the man sarcastically. "Nice job being a complete son of a bitch."

"I don't like your attitude," Calypso's father growled. He stepped closer to Dean and narrowed his eyes. Dean didn't even know what hit him. One moment he was fine and the next he was in so much pain he couldn't speak. He screamed, though. Oh, he screamed.

"Dean!" Calypso screeched in horror as he fell to the floor, thrashing around. "Dean, no!"

She tugged against the handcuffs in vain. They were gonna die. They were all gonna die. And she was gonna have to watch.

"Dean!" she screamed desperately one more time. There was a small click and she looked down at her wrists in surprise. The handcuffs opened and fell to the floor. She quickly brought them up to her eyes in amazement. How did she do that?

Calypso didn't waste too much time wondering before she got up and ran to where Dean was still screaming in pain. She knelt down next to him and looked up at her father.

"Please!" she begged, tears welling up in her eyes. "Please, Daddy, I'm still your baby, remember? Please don't do this!" She felt a hopeful smile spread across her face. "Remember the pumpkin patch when I was only a couple years old? Remember how much fun that was? I'm still that little girl!"

Her father stared at her angrily.

"I don't want a little girl," he growled. "I don't want any sort of girl. I don't want you."

Calypso blinked, the statement not sinking in. What did he mean, he didn't want her? She was his daughter. He was supposed to love and care for her. She was so convinced that he had, but now... Does torturing her and killing her mom count as caring? No. Maybe the pain she had suffered every day was more than just punishment. It was beginning to sound as if the torture was for his own sick amusement. As the realization sunk in, Calypso became more and more angry. Her hopeful expression faded into that of anger.

"You killed Mom," Calypso hissed. As she continued to speak, her voice raised until she was yelling. "You tortured me." Across the room, Sam was waking up. He looked over and saw Calypso stand up, her posture aggressive. "You were going to kill Sam and Dean. You're a killer, a monster!" She clenched her fists. "I HOPE YOU DROP DEAD!"

Calypso's father seemed horrified as the smile dropped from his face. He looked around the room, seeming surprised, and staggered backwards, dropping to his knees. He opened his mouth and tried to speak, but he couldn't get any words out. His hands went up to his chest and clutched at his heart and Calypso watched in confusion. Even as he fell to the floor, eyes open and glassy, it didn't sink in. It was only when she looked back at Dean and saw the unmasked horror in his eyes that she understood what just happened.

Calypso had killed her own father without lifting a finger.

An hour later, Calypso had fixed herself up enough to join the Winchesters downstairs. She hadn't been able to talk to them yet. She'd only sat there in shock as they tried to ask her questions. They finally gave up and let her clean herself up. She secretly wondered if they were scared to go near her. She was scared for them to come close, too.

"Hey, Callie, how are you feeling?" Sam asked as he looked up to see her in the doorway. He and Dean were searching through documents and things in her father's office.

"I'm okay, I guess," she replied quietly. No she wasn't. Not at all. "What's going on?"

"We're looking through your dad's stuff to see if he has anything that's important," Dean answered.

"Find anything?" she asked quietly, sitting on the desk.

"No, nothing yet." Calypso turned to go back out into the hallway. "Wait, Callie." She turned back.

"Yeah?"

"We should talk about what happened," Dean told her. She looked between the two and clasped her hands behind her back.

"I don't think I can do that," Calypso whispered, remembering everything that happened to her in the basement. She wasn't able to look either brother in the eye. "I don't-" Her voice broke and she buried her face in her hands. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's okay," Sam told her, getting up. He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You're gonna be fine."

"Not this time," she told him, looking up and wiping tears away. "I killed my dad. I killed my dad and I don't even know how. How do I recover from that?" She looked up at the two of them for an answer, but Sam and Dean were silent.

They had no clue.

The Winchesters decided to stay in the house that night. It was getting pretty late, after all, and Sam and Dean had already checked out of the motel before they found Calypso. They decided that Calypso needed sleep, so they sent her up to her old room. It was like a stranger to her. She'd never cared much for the place, but seeing it covered in dust was still a depressing sight. Sam left for a few hours to look through the office that belonged to Calypso's dad to see if he could find something, leaving Dean behind to care for Calypso. Dean, of course, wouldn't let her out of his sight, so he sat next to her bed as she tried to fall asleep. He was still there an hour later when she sat up, screaming from a nightmare.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, it's okay," Dean quickly told her, jumping up on the bed and sitting next to her. Calypso leaned against him and began to sob. "You're okay."

"No, I'm not!" she said through sobs, speaking into his shoulder. "I'm - I'm not okay! Dean pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. "I was s-so convinced he was good. I thought _I_ was wrong. I-I didn't realize-"

She cut herself off.

"Your father was a monster," Dean told her. He clenched his fists in anger. "You did the right thing by killing him."

"But I killed him!" she exclaimed, looking up at Dean. "How is that okay? He was my dad, and I killed him!"

"He wasn't your dad," Dean told her comfortingly. "He may have been your father, but he was never a dad. A dad wouldn't have tortured you. Because that? That wasn't abuse. That was torture, Callie."

"I know," she said sadly, her crying slowing down. "I know that now. I wish I had known sooner."

"You would've if-"

"If I listened to you? I know. And I wish I did," she admitted. If she had, she wouldn't have had to endure everything in the basement. "But I didn't. I thought there was good in everyone. Now I see I was wrong."

"Callie-" Dean sighed.

"It's okay Dean," Calypso interrupted matter-of-factly. "I know I'm still a kid. We all try to ignore it most of the time, but I'm only sixteen. I have a lot of growing up to do. This is just a part of it."

"It shouldn't be," Dean told her. "You know, the reason Sam and I both forget you're still sixteen is that you've been through so much more than we have. It's made you grow up faster than you should. And that? That's scary." He looked at her sadly. "Sam and I have been through I lot, but we can't compare to what's happened to you. And now I see why you do the things you do."

"You mean self-harm?" Calypso asked. Dean looked away. He hated it. It disgusted him that someone would feel better by slicing their wrists open. He knew Calypso needed help, more than he could give her, but he didn't know to give her that since they never stayed in the same place for long. It was something he endlessly thought about. "I told you there's a reason behind it. And you know what? I hate it just as much as you do. I'm just as disgusted with myself as you are." Calypso spoke with sadness weighing down her voice. No, it was something else. Hopelessness. Dean couldn't interrupt her. "But it's almost like a..." She searched for the right word. "Like a drug. I can't stop. And, yeah, that's a problem, but only for people that can actually die from it. People who are at risk from everything." She looked up into Dean's eyes and Dean saw how tired she was. Calypso was sick of life and just wanted out. She wanted to be done. "Save their lives, not mine." Calypso paused, then spoke very quietly, looking away.

"I'm already gone."

As the bright early morning rays of sunshine glowed through the windows of Calypso's bedroom, Dean sat up and rubbed his eyes. He had laid next to Calypso the night before to comfort and protect her and had accidentally fallen asleep in the early hours of morning. He stretched out, yawning, then froze. He looked over at the empty side of the bed next to him. Calypso wasn't there.

The rational part of his brain told him that she was probably just downstairs having breakfast with Sam, but he also had the idea that she was kidnapped or ran away or was in some other kind of danger. The list went on and on.

He sprinted downstairs and was greeted by the sight of Sam eating a sesame seed bagel at the kitchen table. His brother looked up and smiled.

"Morning," Sam greeted. He motioned to a small bag at the center of the table. "You hungry?"

"Where's Callie?" Dean asked, looking around the room anxiously. She wasn't there. The smile disappeared off Sam's face.

"What do you mean?" he asked, standing up. "I thought she was upstairs with you!"

"No, I woke up and she was gone!" Dean explained. "Where the hell did she go?"

Sam looked down at the newspaper he had been reading, deep in thought. Where could Calypso have gone? He knew she was too upset to go very far, but probably wanted to get a good distance away from the house. But, knowing Calypso, she would go somewhere she knew they would find her. Sam figured she wouldn't want to leave them. And, since she didn't leave a note, the place would be obvious.

"I think I know where she went."

"Sera?" Calypso called out softly. Her voice echoed among the gravestones placed in neat lines, carrying all across the graveyard, but there was no answer. She turned around. "Sera, please. I know you're here. I just wanted to stop by and say..." Calypso's eyes began to tear up. "Say I'm sorry."

Yet again, silence was Calypso's only reply. She looked down at her friend's grave and knelt down to place a single pink rose by the headstone. Looking at Sera's name engraved in the gray stone made Calypso's tears overflow. She attempted to blink them back at first, but eventually just let them fall, a silent lamentation.

A gentle wind stirred the leaves around her feet.

"What's there for you to be sorry for?" a feminine voice asked. Calypso looked up. Even though it sounded as if three of her were speaking in unison and her voice was slightly muffled, Calypso immediately knew who it was.

"Sera?" she asked, wiping her damp cheeks and turning around to face her dead friend. Sera smiled gently at Calypso and pushed a strand of her waist length blonde hair out of her blue eyes.

"Yeah, it's me," Sera whispered, stepping forward. Calypso noticed she was wearing a short white skirt and a rose colored top, the same clothes she'd worn on the day she died.

"I want to apologize," Calypso told her, trying to swallow past the familiar ball stuck in her throat.

"What for?"

"For making you kill yourself," Calypso managed to choke out.

"You didn't make me do anything," Sera said in confusion, sitting down next to Calypso. "What I did was entirely my choice. Granted," she continued with a smile, "it was the wrong choice, but it was still mine. I was planning to do it for a long time before that day." She put a hand on Calypso's shoulder in comfort. "And what you did wasn't the cause."

"It wasn't?" Calypso asked. Sera smiled at her.

"It wasn't," she told her. "It was the fight we had." Her eyes seemed to be glazed over as she relived the memories. Calypso remembered, too. "I realized, after you'd left, that I'd broken things off with the closest friend I've ever had. The only friend I've ever had, really. You were the only one who would ever really stick up for me. And I shredded the friendship and set it on fire." Sera looked out over the graveyard, frowning. "It was because of what I did, not you, that I committed suicide."

It was quiet.

"I wish I could've done the same thing," Calypso muttered, remembering what she'd tried to do afterwards.

"What?"

A grin slowly growing on her face, Calypso realized Sera had no clue what had happened while she was dead. She didn't know about the Winchesters or the supernatural. So Calypso did her best to explain, describing each and every adventure. By the time she was done, Sera was staring at her, her mouth gaping wide open.

"Oh my God, Calypso, you're friggin' badass!" Sera exclaimed. Calypso laughed.

"I'm not sure about that..."

Sera shook her head in amazement.

"Oh come on," she said. "You travel across the country with two very attractive men, it sounds like, and hunt supernatural things that kill people. And you have special powers that nobody can figure out. AND you're not human, but something nobody has ever heard of before. If that's not badass, I don't know what is!"

"You're making it sound a lot better than it actually is," Calypso told Sera. "Are you forgetting the torture? The pain? The death?"

"You save people," Sera pointed out. "Isn't that worth the pain and suffering? You've saved god knows how many people, and you keep going." Sera frowned, remembering another detail. "I'm sorry about your father, though." She continued speaking angrily. "I swear to god, if he wasn't already dead, I would hunt him down and kill him myself." Calypso looked away.

"He was my dad."

"Calypso, he took your virginity," Sera said carefully. She knew Calypso didn't react well to many things. But she seemed okay, so Sera continued. "You said it yourself, he raped you again yesterday. He deserved what he got." She paused. "No, he deserved a hell of a lot more."

Maybe Sera was right. Maybe she shouldn't think of him as her father anymore. The connection still tortured her, just as he would want it to. Even though she knew she did the right thing, killing her own father didn't make her proud of herself. But no. He wasn't her father. She had no father. Not anymore.

"Maybe."

By the time Sam and Dean arrived Sera and Calypso were sitting quietly, running out of things to say. They heard footsteps as the brothers approached and looked up, knowing that when they part this time, it will be their last.

"Callie?" Sam asked carefully, he and Dean keeping their distance. "Are you okay?"

She looked at Sam, years of sadness showing in her eyes.

"I'm fine," she told him. Calypso turned back to Sera, visibly upset.

"I guess that's my cue to leave," Sera sighed, standing up.

"Please don't go," Calypso begged, rising as well. Sera smiled bittersweetly.

"I have to," she told her. "But before I do, I need to say I'm sorry for everything I did."

"You didn't do anything!" Calypso protested.

"I was a horrible friend to begin with," Sera pointed out. "Then I ditched you for a chance at popularity, and left you all alone in the world when I killed myself."

Sam and Dean exchanged a confused look.

"I've forgiven you for that a long time ago," Calypso told Sera softly. When Sera looked at her, she knew her friend wasn't lying. She was too sincere to lie. "Anyway," Calypso continued proudly, turning to Sam and Dean behind her. "I'm not alone anymore."

But her proud smile soon faded away and there was a dreadful silence as reality began to sink in.

"I'm gonna miss you," Sera squeaked out.

"I'll be there as soon as I can," Calypso promised.

The two girls stared at each other for a moment, teary eyed, then embraced, neither wanting to let go.

Calypso could feel it happening, even as she held her friend close. Gradually, ever so gradually, Sera disappeared, this time for good. Soon Calypso was left alone, her arms falling to her sides.

Her best friend was gone.

Calypso didn't know what to do after Sera left. How was she supposed to react to this? It was almost as if she was in shock. She let the Winchesters lead her to the impala and they rode around, nobody breaking the silence, but she didn't feel entirely there. Part of her was still at the graveyard with her only real friend.

When they arrived at a new motel, far outside the town, Calypso immediately sat down on the edge of the bed, refusing to look at either Sam or Dean.

"Callie-"

"I'm sorry for sneaking out like that. I just really needed to see Sera."

"It's okay," Sam told her. "We get it. She's the reason we came here in the first place. But next time, maybe you can leave a note?"

Calypso smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry," she apologized again.

Sam and Dean crouched down in front of Calypso, needing an explanation for everything. She knew she owed them that, too. She just wasn't sure where to start.

"Look, Callie, I know this has all been hard for you-" Dean began.

"That's an understatement," Calypso mumbled quietly.

"But," he continued as if she didn't say anything. "You need to tell us a few things."

"Like?"

"Just... Everything," Dean told her. He exchanged a look with Sam. "We don't know what happened when your mom died, or when Sera killed herself, or when you ran away. We don't know anything about what happened in your home. And we want to."

Calypso nodded slowly.

"You deserve to," she told the two. "I know that. And I know I can't say I'm not ready to talk about it, because I never will be."

"If you don't want to do this-"

"Oh, no, I really don't want to," Calypso agreed with a small smile. "But I need to." She took a deep breath. "Let me tell you my story." She looked both Sam and Dean in the eye. "Let me tell you everything."


	20. Chapter 20

Calypso could picture where she wanted to begin her story, but couldn't force herself to choke out the words. Instead she looked out the window of the motel room, the blinking sign near the highway flashing in her eyes. She knew Sam and Dean were looking at her expectantly, but even as she opened her mouth, there was only silence.

"It's okay if you don't-"

"Shut up, I'm trying to think," Calypso interrupted Sam. She closed her eyes and focused herself. Where she was going to start, she had no clue, but she forced herself to say something. And once she began, there was no way to keep the words from tumbling out of her mouth. "I was born on November 4, 1990," she finally said. "When I was a kid, I was nothing less than perfect. Obedient, quiet, respectful..." Calypso paused as a small, proud smile appeared on her face for a moment. "When I started school, my teachers loved me. My parents fawned over me. I had a wonderful family and a good life." That small smile faded away. "And then, one day, everything changed..."

It was on her birthday in 1996, she told them. The day she most looked forward to each year. The one day that was completely hers. She told them how her father tortured her for hours. She told them how her mother came in the door and saw what happened. She told them how she'd attacked her husband to save Calypso. She told them that her mother was beaten, and her father went into another room. Then she told them what happened as her mother laid on the floor, dying.

The woman was laying on the ground in a heap, her arms and legs all tangled up. She was a mess of cuts and bruises, and a deep stab wound that was still bleeding. She was completely still, her chest no longer moving. It was clear that the woman was gone.

"Mommy?" Calypso asked, crawling towards the limp figure of her mother. She grabbed her hand and pulled. "Mommy come on." Tears began to form in her eyes. "Wake up, mommy, wake up!" Calypso began to sob, her tears mixing with the blood pooling around her. She shook her mother desperately. "Wake up! Wake up, mommy! Please!"

"I-I kept telling her, 'Mommy wake up. P-please, mommy, w-wake up,' but..." Calypso wiped a tear away, barely able to lift her hand. "Sh-she was gone."

Sam and Dean looked at each other, horrified. This was awful. No, it was more than that. It was sickening. How could this happen to a six year old?

"And... And what happened after that?" Sam asked, captivated by the awful story.

"I mean, there was a funeral," Calypso told them the obvious, focusing herself. Tears continued to roll down her cheeks at random. "Mom's family came, but my father had none. His parents died young and he was an only child. I sat next to him the entire time and - and I didn't even know... I didn't remember... He killed her." She clenched her fists in anger. "He killed her and I didn't remember. But when he spoke... Well, no one would've suspected it was him." She breathed in deeply. "Then I went up and was given this," Calypso grasped onto her necklace and pulled down sharply; the chain dug into the back of her neck, "as Mom's final gift. And I ran." She looked at Sam and Dean sheepishly, still crying. "You know I have an issue with running away from my problems."

"No, no, I get it," Sam told her. He reached over and grabbed her hand, seeing how upset she was. "You didn't know how to deal with it, and couldn't be around so many people. So you went off to be alone."

She looked at him and smiled, grateful that he said it for her.

"The next day, I came home late from school," she continued with the story. "I can still remember walking through the door and smelling only alcohol. My father was sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by empty beer bottles..."

"You're late," the man had snapped.

"I'm sorry daddy," Calypso apologized sweetly. "Mrs. Drake wanted to say she was sorry for-"

"SHUT UP!" her father yelled, smashing his fist on the table. Calypso had jumped back, frightened. Her father wasn't usually like this. "SHE WOULDN'T HAVE TO SAY SHE'S SORRY ABOUT ANNABELLA IF IT WEREN'T FOR YOU!"

Calypso had stared at him in shock.

"Daddy?" she asked, concerned that he was unwell.

"I SAID SHUT UP!"

That's when things had gotten ugly. He stood up and walked over to Calypso, even as she stepped back.

"You're the reason your mother is dead," her father hissed, alcohol heavy on his breath. It was so strong that Calypso had unintentionally made a face. Of course, when her father pushed her into the wall, the expression disappeared. "If the murderer didn't want to hurt you, she wouldn't be dead. If it weren't for you, your mother would still be alive!"

Calypso looked away, tears overflowing from her eyes.

"I know," she admitted. She wiped the tears off her cheeks. "I know daddy. Mommy's dead because of me."

"That was the first time he punished-" Calypso caught herself, knowing the word wasn't true. "Abused me. And as he punched and kicked me, he just kept repeating that it was a punishment for killing Mom. And I didn't fight back because I thought I deserved it." She shook her head sadly. "I was six and already blaming myself for Mom's death."

"But you didn't do anything," Dean protested. "It wasn't your fault."

"It's called survivor's guilt," Calypso explained. "It's common in soldiers and people who survived natural disasters. It's also found in the family and friends of people who commit suicide. If you have it, you begin to feel bad for living when others around you have died. Sometimes it leads to clinical depression or self-blame. Other times it makes you help others to feel better about yourself." She looked between the brothers to make sure they understood. "I didn't know it then, but what started everything, the cutting, the attempted suicides, the depression, was the guilt of surviving, while Mom didn't." There was a thoughtful pause. "I tried to slit my wrists a year later, wanting to be with her again. You can imagine my surprise when the deeper cuts magically healed. So I tried everything else I could think of, but nothing worked. That's when I realized that I wasn't like everything else. That I was a freak."

"You aren't a freak," Dean told her.

"Name one other person you know who isn't able to die," Calypso told him. Dean was silent. "It's okay. I've accepted it at this point. I'm okay with it now." She sighed. "It was around then that red eyes began to haunt my dreams. I would hear a man's laughter and see a pair of bright red eyes, then feel the most agonizing pain..." She turned to look at Sam. "And then I realized it wasn't a dream. I didn't know who the man was at the time or even what he looked like, but he'd visit at least five times a week. That's when I stopped sleeping so that he wouldn't catch me off guard. But I was always beaten and left cowering under my covers. Now that I know it was dad all along..." Calypso shook her head and smiled sadly, her eyes glazed over, almost in a daze. "I don't know what to think. I know that wasn't punishment. That was plain torture, no doubt about it. But why would he do that?"

"Callie, you know by now that he wasn't human, right?" Sam asked. She nodded. "And you know how some monsters, their only purpose is to cause pain and suffering."

"He was doing what his instinct told him to," Dean added.

"No, I think he was doing it for his own amusement," Calypso told them thoughtfully. "I could tell by the laughing that he was getting a twisted joy out of it. It made him feel good. My pain gave him pleasure."

It was quiet. That didn't sound like too many things the Winchesters had faced before. Maybe a demon, but the eyes weren't right. They were supposed to be completely red, not partially. This didn't add up.

"What happened next?" Sam asked curiously. Calypso smiled, looking genuinely happy for once.

"A couple years later, when I was ten, I met this small blonde girl at the park," Calypso told the two. "She just moved in and was going to start school in a couple days. We sat on the swings together and tried to see who could fly up the highest." Calypso laughed. "She won of course." She sat up proudly. "But I was the fastest on the slides." Calypso blinked, seemingly confused for a moment, as the smile faded from her face and the rest of the tale finally sunk in. "Sera was the first friend I ever had. Everyone else at school, they avoided me after Mom died. As the years passed, they began to tease me and laugh at me. They would beat me up after school sometimes, and I would let them. It didn't hurt as much as the ones at home. It still happened when I moved up a grade, just with a group of different people. The one thing I told myself to keep my spirits up was that at least Sera and I would be in the same grade. Maybe things would even be different. But when Sera came to school, she suffered the same fate." Calypso shook her head regretfully. "I wish I never met her at the park. She would've had friends if we didn't meet, been popular. Instead, I doomed her. But we were okay for four whole years. We were happy, even. Then she became one of them..."

"Hey Sera!" Calypso called one morning at school across the courtyard. Her friend, standing with a few others, stiffened and turned to look at her.

"Oh," Sera said indifferently. "Hi Calypso."

Calypso noticed that the people behind Sera were their bullies and stepped back in fear. The group glared at her maliciously and Calypso swallowed nervously.

"So, uh, wanna go to my locker? I have your birthday present that I forgot to bring yesterday," Calypso told her awkwardly, not taking her eyes off the kids standing behind her.

"Keep it," Sera told her. She turned back and continued talking to the other kids.

"But Sera-"

"Why are you even still here?" Sera asked obnoxiously. She looked back at her again. Calypso stared at her in shock. What happened? Weren't they still friends? Nothing happened between them that Calypso knew about.

"Because we always hang out before school," Calypso told her, broken hearted.

"Used to," Sera corrected. "That's when we were friends."

"I-I thought-"

"You thought wrong," Sera said. She turned around again. "Go away. I have a better group now."

"I'm not ashamed to say that I ran, crying, into the girls bathroom," Calypso admitted. "I stayed there for the entire day, but I calmed down enough after school to confront Sera outside." She squeezed her hands. "Let's just say things didn't go well..."

"Sera!" Calypso called after her friend as the entire school rushed madly into the parking lot to get a ride home. "Sera wait!"

"What do you want, Calypso?" Sera asked coldly, stopping but not turning around. Calypso quickly caught up to her. "I thought I told you not to talk to me."

"What happened?" Calypso asked desperately. A bird chirped in the tree next to her. "Yesterday we were best friends and now you're hanging out with them? How could you?!"

"I'm popular now, Calypso," Sera told her. "Remember how much we complained about being at the bottom of the school? I don't want that anymore."

That dumb bird wouldn't stop chirping.

"But-"

"But nothing. I've made my decision."

Sera began to walk away.

"So you're just as stupid as the rest of them," Calypso said. Sera stopped. "Just as much of a bitch."

"What did you say?" Sera asked, stunned.

"I said you're a bitch," Calypso repeated, stepping forward. "Abandoning your only friend for five years? That's low. But then, I should have expected it. After all, that's who you are right?" Calypso started yelling, feeling her anger explode. "You're just a stupid, unreliable little bitch!"

"I don't... I don't know why I said it," Calypso told Sam and Dean, her head in her hands. At this point, the boys were sitting next to her. "I just... I just lost it. I didn't mean to!"

"She deserved it," Dean told her.

"No," Calypso disagreed quietly. "Maybe she deserved that, but she didn't deserve what I did next."

"What did you do?" Sam asked.

Calypso shook her head, suddenly upset.

"I don't remember!" she cried. "I think... When I got home, I just remember my dad doing something and I blacked out for a moment. I think he made me forget."

"Why would he do that?" Dean asked. How could he do that? "Why would he care?"

"I don't know!"

"Okay, okay," Sam said hurriedly, trying to prevent a breakdown from Calypso. "Maybe now that he's gone, you can break through whatever he did."

"Maybe," Calypso agreed doubtfully. "But how?"

"Um..." Sam looked at his brother for suggestions, but Dean just shrugged. "Maybe just close your eyes and try to remember."

Calypso wasn't sure if the plan would work, but she went along with it anyway. Her eyes shut and she went through the scene again. As she neared the end, there was a faint tickle in the back of her mind. She caught hold of it and forced herself to push further, to remember more. Suddenly, as if a switch flipped, the rest of the scene played in her head.

"You're just a stupid, unreliable little bitch!" Calypso yelled at Sera. She took a step back, looking hurt, but Calypso didn't care. She felt powerful now, something she never thought she would experience. "You should just go kill yourself!"

There was a sudden jerk of her stomach and a thump in the tree Calypso was next to. Both she and Sera turned to it curiously, distracted. Calypso had a bad feeling about it.

The leaves rustled as something fell from the branches and hit the ground. Calypso knelt down next to it, confused. It was the bird she'd been so angry at for continually chirping. Its red feathers glinted in the sunlight, a bright contrast to the dull gray pavement. It was unmoving, quiet. And it was dead. She stood up slowly, telling herself it must have just been a coincidence. She couldn't have killed a bird just by yelling. But that tug in her stomach... Oh god. She just killed a bird without touching it. How did she just do that?

"Oh my god," Sera gasped, looking at the bird, then Calypso, taking a step back. "How did you do that?"

"I... I don't know..." Calypso told her, her voice wavering.

"You killed it!" Sera yelled. "You freak, you killed it!"

"I-I didn't mean-"

"Freak!"

Calypso opened her eyes with a start. Immediately standing up, her eyes wide, she let out a noise similar to a sob. Sam and Dean stood next to her not a moment later.

"What is it?" Dean asked. "What happened?" Calypso turned to him, her face deathly pale.

"I-" she was able to choke out, before she seemed to collapse in on herself. Dean caught her before she fell to the floor, then picked her up. She went limp against him, too defeated to do anything. He looked at Sam for a moment, confused, before putting her on the bed. She leaned against the wall, shell shocked.

"Callie?" Dean asked, concerned. She didn't respond. "Come on. Snap out of it."

Calypso shook her head, silent. She didn't want to explain, but she knew she had to.

"I told her to do it," Calypso whispered. She looked at Sam and Dean, horror showing in her eyes.

"What did you tell her to do?" Sam asked.

"I told Sera to kill herself," Calypso told them, disgusted with herself. Sam and Dean exchanged a look. "How could I do that?"

She then explained everything she remembered, not leaving a single detail out.

"So you killed a bird?" Dean asked, unimpressed.

"Dean, she didn't touch it," Sam defended Calypso. "She just got mad and it happened. Is that normal to you?"

"Well, when you put it that way..." Dean said. He turned to a still pale Calypso. "And you did this in front of Sera?"

"She didn't take it very well," Calypso told him, the word freak echoing in her head. "So I ran home, panicking and my father somehow wiped my memory... The next thing I know, I'm in my room, sitting on my bed with my phone next to me..."

_Buzz. Buzz. Buzz._

Calypso looked down to see who was calling. Sera. Calypso looked away as she pressed the ignore button. Sera could rot in hell for all she cared. But as the call rang through and she left a voicemail, Calypso began to wonder what she called about. Was it important? But at the same time, she wanted to be strong by not responding. Thirty minutes later, curiosity got the best of her, and she put the phone up to her ear. The voicemail played, each word causing her to become more and more pale.

"Calypso, I know you don't want to talk to me. That's fine. I deserve it. But what happened today, what you did..." Sera's voice trailed off. "That scared the hell out of me. That wasn't possible. And now I see why you never let me go over to your house. I get it. You didn't want to hurt me." There was a pause. "I'm sorry about what I did. Going to the popular kids, that was low, and I know it. And you told me it was wrong. Now I've been shunned by both of you." There was a deep sigh. "There's only one thing left to do now, isn't there." Sera's breathing became more ragged. "As soon as I hang up, I'm going to shoot myself with my dad's gun. At least I'll be out of the way." She cleared her voice on the other end. "So, as my last words, I'm sorry, Calypso. I wish things were different. I love you."

Calypso put the phone down slowly, the words sinking in. No, no, no. This wasn't possible. Of course it wasn't possible. It was just a joke, a cruel, cruel joke. But if it was true... Calypso clenched her fist, the delusion cast out of her head.

Sera was gonna commit suicide? No, that was Calypso's job, not hers. And she wasn't gonna let her best friend do it. She got up and put her phone in the pocket of the purple sweatshirt she was wearing and made sure her knife was in her back pocket. She had a feeling she would need it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon. Then she ran from her room and down the stairs. Her father was at the bottom, standing by the door.

"Going somewhere?" he asked.

"Yeah," Calypso told him, trying to push pass. She didn't have time for this. She had to get there, she had to see Sera. Surely she didn't do anything yet. Calypso would feel it. She would know. "To Sera's."

"I don't think so," he told her. "You don't leave unless I let you."

"Well I don't give a shit what you won't let me do!" Calypso yelled. She pushed her way past him, but when he grabbed her wrist to pull her back, she punched him and he staggered back. Both were stunned. Calypso never hit back before. Not even on the worst days. The devotion she had to her friends was... Incredible. Nothing would hurt them. She wouldn't let it. Nothing would get in the way of checking up on them. So Calypso didn't hesitate or wait for any amount of time. By the time her father looked back, she was gone.

"Nice," Dean complimented.

"It was the first time I stood up to him," Calypso told him and Sam. "I knew what the consequences were, but I didn't care. Sera was either dead or dying. I had no time to think about consequences."

"So you went to her house," Sam continued for her.

"Yeah," Calypso agreed. "But when I knocked, no one answered. So I picked the lock. I went straight to Sera's bedroom, hoping against all odds that she was still alive, but..." Calypso looked down, tearing up. "She wasn't. There was b-blood everywhere. J-Just so m-much blood."

"What did you do?" Dean asked. Calypso wiped her eyes, determined not to show emotion. She stared straight ahead and lifted her chin slightly.

"I knew I couldn't stay," Calypso began. "Facing school without Sera and going back to my father after disobeying him? There was no way. So I ran. I left Sera's house as if I was never there and sprinted to nearest bus station, where I was somehow able to sneak onto a bus headed to Seattle." She smiled. "That's when I ran into you two. I think you know what happened from there."

"Wait, so your best friend died just days before you met us?" Sam asked, stunned.

"Yeah. Two days before we ran into each other," Calypso told him. "But hunting distracted me from it. I was able to get my mind off her. Except during the long car rides." Dean stared at her blankly, so she explained further. "Do you remember how I always used to play on my phone in the backseat? I never deleted a single text from Sera. In the car, on the way to the next hunt, I would always reread our old conversations. It made me feel closer to her, you know? And I would sometimes call her to hear her voicemail. Except one day it stopped going through."

There was silence.

"And during everything, you would always slash your wrists open?" Dean asked. Calypso looked him in the eye, unashamed.

"You act as if cutting is the only form of self-harm," Calypso said. "I was flexible. I still am flexible. Do you really think taking my knife away helped me?" Dean exchanged a worried glance with Sam. "I can use anything. Lighters, razor blades, mirrors, anything. Even my own fingernails." Calypso huffed an airy laugh and shook her head, lost and without hope. "I know I sound like a deranged psychopath. Maybe I am. I wouldn't be surprised. But at least I'm a stubborn deranged psychopath. I'm not stopping. I'll never stop."

"Callie, we're just asking you to try," Sam told her gently, seeing how close she was to losing it. "At least, next time you do something, come to us to help fix you up." Calypso seemed hesitant. "Please. I'm begging you."

"Maybe," she agreed at last. "But only if you don't yell at me. I feel bad enough already. I don't need more guilt. I have enough. Mom, Sera, your dad, both of you..."

More and more faces flashed through her mind, each one making her feel progressively worse. More and more guilty.

Guilt. It was such a funny thing to her. It was one of the few emotions to which she was familiar. Maybe that was bad. Calypso didn't care. She was far past that point. She was just tired. She wanted out. That was her one wish. Couldn't she have just that?

Calypso didn't notice she was crying until she felt Dean's arms wrap around her and her head leaning on his chest. Sam held her hand in his, squeezing it tightly. And they sat like that. They sat for who knows how long, comforting the broken teenage girl in the center. Maybe, with enough effort, they could put her back together. Or maybe what's left of her was about to shatter.

Maybe she was going to pass the point of getting better. Soon.


	21. Chapter 21

**Okay, so I'm done posting my old chapters that I finished a while back and onto actually writing them again (thank god). I'm not going to be updating as often anymore because writing obviously takes longer to do than editing. I'm still going to aim to update each weekend, but I might not be able to. Just a heads up. Oh, and since I'm actually writing instead of editing now, I'm hoping that it will improve in writing style and not be as awkward, especially in dialogue. Hope you enjoy the new chapter!**

/

It was dark as the impala pulled up to a small, side of the road diner, isolated from all other civilization. Perhaps that was why Calypso was so eager to get out of the car and move around a little. They'd been in the impala the entire day, and she needed a little time to stretch her legs. As the car slowed to a stop, Calypso unbuckled and spread her arms out.

"Hey, don't forget the extra onions this time, huh?" Dean told his brother, handing him some money.

"Dude," Sam began with a frustrated sigh. He snatched the bills out of Dean's hand. "Callie and I are the ones who're gonna have to ride in the car with your extra onions."

Calypso made a face and Dean grinned. She and Sam exited the car, Sam clearly annoyed, when Dean called after them.

"Hey, see if they've got any pie," Dean told his brother, who hadn't yet closed the door. Calypso smiled at Sam's fed up expression as she passed him. Sam slammed the car door shut and quickly joined her as they went inside. The pair still heard Dean yelling in the background. "Bring me some pie!"

"Jeez, Dean and his pie," Calypso said in vague amusement. "Personally, I'm more of an ice cream person."

Sam looked over at her and feigned seriousness.

"Never tell Dean that," he warned. She smiled and they entered the diner. While Calypso admired the delicious looking treats on the counter, Sam ordered the burgers they were having for dinner and, of course, the pie.

That's when things got strange. Calypso turned to Sam to ask for a small chocolate chip cookie that had caught her eye, when she choked on the strong smell of rotten eggs. Sulfur.

Calypso didn't even have time to pull out her knife before the diner went dark.

/

When she woke up on the moist dirt, Calypso was alone. Sitting up, she peered into the mistiness of her surroundings, but could only make out a group of old and rotting buildings, and an intimidating forest blocking a way out.

"Sam?" she whispered hesitantly. Whatever was out there, she didn't want to alert it of her presence. "Dean?"

There was no response but the cool wind blowing her hair back, filled with the scent of evergreen and soil.

Calypso cautiously got to her feet and pulled out her phone.

"Crap," she whispered. No signal. She put the device back in her pocket and looked around once more. Still, there was no movement. With a sigh, Calypso took the knife out of her pocket and stepped towards the town. She stayed alert, waiting to sense movement of any kind, but as she walked past building after building, she became increasingly afraid that she was the only one in this abandoned little town. After all, every door she tried to open was locked, and every house she looked through the windows of was empty. Did the demon do this? She was fairly certain that was the cause, since she did smell sulfur before she woke up here. Still, why put her in an empty town? Surely there was something more going on.

As she slowly crept through the alley between two buildings, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Cautiously, ever so cautiously, Calypso tiptoed forward until the alley met the street, then flattened herself against the wall.

_Anything that's here with you won't be friendly._ she reminded herself. _Stay alert and never lower your knife._

Calypso jumped out from the alley a moment later, knife pointed at the figure in front of her.

"Don't move," she warned, her voice an octave lower than it usually was. The figure straightened up in surprise.

"Callie?" Sam asked as he turned around to face her.

"Sam?" Calypso echoed, a wave of relief crashing over her. She lowered her knife. "I thought I was alone."

"Me, too."

"Is Dean here? Did you find him?" Calypso asked. She wasn't sure whether she should be relieved or dismayed. If they were kidnapped and brought here, it couldn't be for a good reason.

"No, I can't find anyone else," Sam told her. She nodded and looked around.

"Where are we?"

"I don't know," Sam admitted.

"Fantastic," Calypso muttered.

Her head whipped to the side as she heard a creaking sound nearby and once again raised her knife. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sam pick up a large plank of wood and clenched her teeth in frustration. They came into this completely unprepared. The two cautiously stepped towards the corner, then whatever made the noise rounded it.

The man they were so ready to attack jumped back, startled, and Calypso realized she knew him. Andy Gallagher, a psychic like Sam, but one that could control a person just by telling them what to do. It didn't work on Sam though, and on Callie its effects were very limited. She could easily break through the persuasion.

"Andy?" Sam asked, just as startled and confused.

"Sam!" Andy exclaimed. He turned his head slightly and saw Calypso, too. "Calypso! What are you doing here?"

"I don't know," she answered simply.

"What am I doing here?!" he asked, beginning to panic.

"I don't know that either," she told him.

"Where are we?!" he yelled, finally losing it.

"Andy, look, calm down," Sam suggested, throwing the plank of wood away. Calypso put her knife back in her pocket.

"I can't calm down!" Andy cried. "I just woke up in freaking Frontierland!"

"What's the last thing you remember?" Sam asked.

"Honestly? My fourth bong load," Andy admitted, finally beginning to control himself. "It was weird. All of a sudden, there was this really intense smell. Like, uh…"

"Like sulfur?" Calypso asked, remembering her own experience.

"How did you know that?"

"Dammit," Calypso muttered. "Dean."

"Your, your brother – is he here?" Andy asked the two of them.

"I don't know where he is," Sam told him, eyes searching their surroundings. He looked helplessly at Calypso. "I don't know if he's…"

_Don't you dare say it._

Before he could say anything, there was a sudden feminine scream in the distance, accompanied by what sounded like fists banging on wood.

"Oh, fantastic, another one," Calypso muttered.

Naturally, they had to figure out who it was and what was going on, so they followed the screams to another deserted building. It sounded as if she was locked inside.

"Hello?" Sam called.

"Help me!" the hysterical woman cried in desperation. "Help me, please!"

"Okay, I'm here," Sam told her. "We're gonna get you out, all right? Just hold on a second."

"Please!" she begged.

Sam looked around and picked up a large rock off of the ground and smashed it against the padlock on the door until it opened.

"All right, one second," Sam announced as he took the lock off the door.

"Please!"

Sam opened the door to reveal a round faced, brown haired girl, her cheeks stained with tears. Calypso had the feeling that she'd seen the girl before, but couldn't quite place her.

"Ava?"

Ava… Ava Wilson! Months ago when Dean and Calypso were kidnapped by Gordon, Ava had helped Sam find them, then went missing almost immediately afterwards, leaving her fiancée dead.

"Oh my God! Sam!" she sobbed, running forward and wrapping her arms around him in a giant hug. Sam held her as she attempted to calm herself down, but she wasn't doing a very good job at it.

"So, I guess you guys know each other," Andy said, not finding much else to say.

"Yeah," Sam told him, still surprised.

"How did you—I mean, how did you—" Ava sputtered.

"Have you been in there the entire time?" Calypso asked, wanting to get some answers.

"What entire time? I just woke up in there, like, a half an hour ago," she told them.

"Ava, you've been missing for five months," Calypso broke the news to her.

"Okay, that's impossible, because I saw you," Ava turned to Sam, "two days ago."

"You didn't," Sam told her. "I'm sorry."

"But… that makes no sense," Ava protested. "That's not—oh my God! My fiancée, Brady! If I've been missing for that long, he must be freaking out."

Sam and Calypso exchanged an awkward glance.

"Well…"

"Oh!" Ava exclaimed, finally noticing Andy and staring at him, confused.

"Hey," he greeted her awkwardly. "Andy. Also freaking out."

"Okay." Ava turned back to Sam. "What's happening?"

"I, uh, I don't really know yet," Sam answered honestly, keeping it together for the sake of the group. "But I know one thing: I know what at least three of us have in common."

Calypso knew, too. They were all psychics, they were all in their early twenties… So what was she doing here? She knew she wasn't a psychic, and she was only sixteen. Why would she be grouped with them?

Before Sam could drop the bombshell, there was another man's voice calling from far away.

"Hello? Is anybody there?"

"Maybe more than three," Sam realized.

They jogged to the side of another building in the ghost town where an African American man and a pale blonde girl stood on a porch. Both seemed to be about the same age as everyone else, and probably had psychic abilities, too.

"Hello?" Sam called. The couple emerged from a hidden side of the porch. The man wore a military uniform while the girl was in all black. "Hey! Hey, you guys all right?"

"I think so," the man replied.

"I'm Sam."

"I'm Jake," the man told him.

"Lily," the blonde girl said.

"Is anyone else here?" Calypso asked, wondering if this was it.

"No," Jake answered.

"How did we even get here?" Lily asked in a monotone, as if it hadn't set in yet. "A minute ago, I was in San Diego."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I went to sleep last night in Afghanistan," Jake told her.

Calypso raised her eyebrows in surprise. She should have known distance meant nothing to demons.

"Let me take a wild guess: you two are both twenty-three?" Sam asked. "We all are." He looked over at Calypso. "Well, most of us, at least. And we all have abilities."

"What?" Jake asked in disbelief.

"It started a little over a year ago?" Sam told him. "You found you could do things? Things you didn't think were possible?" The two of them nodded. "I have visions. I see things before they happen."

"Yeah. Me, too." Ava agreed.

"Yeah, and I can put thoughts into people's heads" Andy offered. "Like, make them do stuff. But don't worry, it, I don't think it works on you guys. Oh, but get this –- I've been practicing." His hand gestures were getting more and more elaborate as he went on. "Training my brain, like meditation. So now, it's not just thoughts I can beam out, but images, too. Like, anything I want. Bam! People, they see it. This one guy I know – total dick, right? I used it on him: gay porn. All hours of the day." Andy laughed. "It was just like … you should have seen the look on his face."

When he looked around, he was met with unamused and disgusted faces.

"Uh…okay," he said, realizing what he said was semi-disturbing.

"I'm a little different, as I'm sure you all can tell," Calypso broke through the awkward silence. "I'm sixteen years old, and I've never had one of the headaches that the rest of you have. And my powers have been going on for a few years now. Uh, I think the most important thing is that I can't die." She looked around at their disbelieving faces. "No, that's not a joke, it's impossible. I can also… Um… Kill things if I get angry enough, without touching them." Calypso looked over at Sam. "And that's about it for me, I guess."

She didn't want them to know everything about her. There were a couple things she wanted to keep to herself.

"So, it's impossible for you to die," Lily begins angrily, before turning to Andy, "you go, "Simon says give me your wallet", and they do?" She looked at Sam. "You have visions? That's great! I'd kill for something like that."

"Lily, listen, it's okay—" Sam tried to comfort her.

"No. It's not," Lily argued. "I touch people? Their hearts stop. I can barely leave my house. My life's not exactly improved. So, screw you. I just wanna go home." She turned to walk away.

"And what, we don't?" Jake asked.

"You know what, don't talk to me like that, not right—" Lily said, turning back around and pointing her finger at him.

"Hey, guys, please," Sam interrupted before things got bad. "Look, whether we like it or not, we're all here, and so we all have to deal with this."

"Who brought us here?" Andy asked.

Calypso looked at Sam nervously.

"It's less of a 'who.' It's ... more of a 'what,'" Sam replied.

"What does that mean?" Ava asked. Sam clearly didn't want to answer, so Calypso took over instead after a long pause. She figured sugar coating it wouldn't help anyone, so she decided to be blunt.

"It's a demon."

/

They took the news just as well as Calypso thought they would, even after she and Sam described what was going on.

"So, we're soldiers in a demon war to bring on the Apocalypse?" Jake asked, as far from believing as possible.

"Essentially, yes," Calypso answered.

"And, and we've been picked?"

"Yes," Sam told him, getting fed up with the group's stubbornness.

"Why us?"

"I'm not sure, okay? But look, I just know—"

"Sam, I'm sorry. Psychics and spoon-bending is one thing, but demons?" Ava whined.

"Look, I know it sounds crazy, but—"

"It doesn't just sound it," Jake told him.

"Look, we really don't care what you think," Calypso said, annoyed. "I've seen my share of exorcisms, even participated in them. Sam and I have been finding all this stuff about soldiers and the war and so on over the year and if you don't believe us, fine, but you're gonna regret it when you're killed by them, probably sooner than later!" She looked over the group, daring any of them to question her words. "If you want to survive this, then you've got to-"

"The only thing I've gotta do is stay away from wackjobs, okay?" Jake interrupted. Calypso turned and glared at him; he was unable to look her in the eye. "I've heard enough. I'm better off on my own. FYI," he looked at the others, "so are you."

"Jake, hold on," Sam called after him. "Jake!"

"Oh, genius move," Calypso said sarcastically. "Because you can totally fend off a demon all by yourself without any training. Good job, Jake."

"Callie-" Sam tried to say.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Calypso interrupted, still annoyed. "We have to go save him."

They followed Jake to what was most likely an old schoolhouse, and entered just as a demon, disguised as a rather hideous young girl with claws, was about to kill him. Calypso could have laughed at the ironic turn of events, but didn't as Sam hit the demon with an iron bar, causing it to turn into black smoke and leave. The other three join Sam, Calypso, and Jake as the smoke exited the room. They ducked underneath it and when it was gone, they looked up in shock.

"FYI," Calypso mimicked Jake from earlier. "That thing was a demon."

/

"Now, that thing – I'm not sure, but I think it was an Acheri," Sam speculated. He turned to Calypso expectantly and she thought for a moment.

"Isn't that a demon that disguises itself as a little girl?" she asked.

"Yeah, good job," Sam praised her. She beamed. The Winchesters had been making her memorize these creatures over the past two years and were constantly quizzing her on them. Even though she was in the middle of nowhere, scared out of her mind, getting that question right made her smile. "That still doesn't tell us where we are." He turned to see everyone looking at him and paying attention, except Andy. "Andy, are you with me or what?"

"Give me a minute," he said weakly. "I'm still working through, 'Demons are real.'"

The group continued walking down the dusty streets of the empty town, nobody really feeling like talking. As they passed a building, Calypso spotted a large, rusty bell hanging from a wooden structure. The entire group stopped.

"I've seen that bell before," Sam told them. "I think I know where we are now; Cold Oak, South Dakota. A town so haunted, every single resident fled."

"Swell," Ava said sarcastically. "Good to know we're somewhere so historical."

"Why in the world would that demon or whatever put us here?" Lily asked.

"I'm wondering the same thing," Sam admitted.

"You know what? It doesn't matter," Lily told everyone. She turned around and started walking the other way. "Clearly, the only sane thing to do here is get the hell out of Dodge."

"Wait, hold on. Lily, the only way out is through miles of woods," Sam told her sensibly. Lily stopped, but didn't turn back around.

"Beats hanging out with demons," she argued.

"Lily, look, we don't know what's going on yet," Sam told her. "I mean, we don't even know how many of them are out there right now."

"Yeah, he's right," Jake agreed. "We should—"

"Don't say 'we!'" Lily exclaimed, finally turning around and marching back to them. Calypso furrowed her eyebrows. What was going on with her? "I'm not part of 'we'. I have nothing in common with any of you,"

"Okay, look, I know—" Sam began

"You don't know anything!" There was a pause. "I… I accidentally touched my girlfriend."

Oh.

"I'm sorry," Calypso apologized. "I know what that's like." She looked over at Sam, then back to Lily. "Just a couple weeks ago, I accidentally killed my father without using a knife or gun or anything. He just dropped dead." She looked down at the dirt road. "I've lost other people too, and trust me, I know that feeling. But right now you have to focus on the future, not the past because the only way I can see all of us getting out of here alive is by sticking together."

Lily stared at her for a moment, and Calypso looked back, maintaining eye contact, trying to make her understand without any other words. Lily's expression softened slightly, but not as much as Calypso had hoped for.

"Fine," Lily reluctantly agreed.

/

"We're looking for iron, silver, salt –- any kind of weapon," Sam announced as they continued walking through the town.

"Salt is a weapon?" Jake asked.

"It's a brave new world," Sam told him.

"Well, hopefully there's food in your world, because I'm frickin' starving," Andy told them.

"There's always tree bark or something. I'm pretty sure that's edible," Calypso thought out loud. "Can't be too bad…"

They entered another building, ready to search it top to bottom, but Lily didn't follow. Instead she wandered off on her own, away from the group, without anyone noticing.

And they were down to five.

/

The five left searched one of the abandoned houses, finding a few useful things, but not nearly enough. Sam found a knife in one room while Jake and Andy found salt in another room and called everyone over to show them.

"That's great, Andy," Sam praised. "Now, we all can…" He paused and looked around while Calypso felt a small jolt in her stomach, causing her to wince. "Where's Lily?"

They all looked around, but the girl was nowhere to be seen.

"Lily?" Ava called.

"Lily!" Sam and Calypso exclaimed together.

It was then that the Acheri demon began giggling right outside. The five followed the noise and were greeted by a horrendous sight. It was Lily, hanging from a noose tied to the water tower, clearly dead. Calypso stared in disbelief. She thought Lily had followed them inside!

"Oh my God!" Ava exclaimed, the first to say anything. The rest stood there in shock. "Okay, that's officially—Sam, she's dead! She's dead! You said we were chosen for a reason. That is not chosen! That's killed! Okay, we have to get out of here."

Ava tried to turn and walk away, but Sam blocked her.

"Stop," Sam tried to interrupt.

"Yeah, I second that emotion," Andy agreed with Ava.

"I don't think we can," Calypso told them.

"What?" Ava asked, confused and frightened.

"Lily was trying to leave," Sam explained. "The demon's not gonna let us get away that easy. We've gotta gear up for the next attack."

"Oh, gear up?" Ava asked.

"Yeah."

"Okay, well, I'm not a soldier. I can't do that!"

"Well, if you wanna stay alive, you're gonna have to," Sam told her bluntly. "Let's go."

The group started to head back inside.

"I'll get her down," Jake volunteered before walking away towards the water tower. Calypso stayed next to Sam, wondering if she was the only one that would make it out of this mess.

"You know, I was just thinking about how much Dean would help right now," Sam said aloud, stopping by the doorway with Andy and Calypso. "I'd give my arm for a working phone."

"You know, you may not need one," Andy realized. "I've never tried it long-distance before, but do you have anything of Dean's on you? Like, something he touched?"

"Well I was gonna volunteer to do the fall asleep and visit with my spirit thing, but this sounds a lot faster," Calypso said as Sam searched through his pockets.

"Uh…I've got a receipt. Would that work?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Andy told him, taking the receipt. He looked at the signature in confusion. "D. Hasselhoff?"

"Yeah, that's Dean's signature," Sam claimed.

"Don't ask," Calypso advised.

"All right," Andy agreed, sounding amused. He quickly focused in on the small piece of paper and seemed to be concentrating very hard for his usual self. Calypso prayed this would work, but also knew Dean would stop at nothing to rescue them anyway. She looked up at Lily's dead body. He better get here soon, or else they would all end up like that.

/

Sam made Calypso stay in the house and watch over Andy and Ava to make sure they were okay while he and Jake attempted to break off some iron bars in a barn to use against the demon. Calypso knew she wouldn't be of much help with that, so she agreed to stay behind, even though she felt like a babysitter. It was funny, almost, how she was seven years younger than the rest of them and was almost sharing the leader role with Sam. Strange.

Later that night, after the house's doorways and windows were lined with salt, the group of five sat together silently, all in one room. Calypso, for some odd reason was finding it hard to stay awake. As she yawned, she wondered if maybe it was the stress shutting her down. She tried so hard to keep her eyes open, but eventually they slid shut on their own accord.

It was as if nothing changed as she dreamed. There she was, still sitting in the room with everyone else, but this time there was someone else standing in the doorway. Someone with swirling yellow eyes.

"Stay back!" she yelled at the demon, jumping up to her feet.

"Relax, Calypso, it's only a dream, I can't actually hurt you," Yellow Eyes told her. She still pulled out her knife, determined to end this bastard's life. "You can't hurt me either." He smiled at her look of frustration. "Like I said, just a dream."

"What do you want?" she asked suspiciously.

"To talk," Yellow Eyes claimed. "Why don't you follow me outside?" Calypso stayed where she was.

"Why should I?"

"Oh, I just thought you'd want some answers to all this nonsense, that's all," Yellow Eyes enticed her. She looked over at Sam nervously.

"Fine," she agreed at last. "But like you said, you can't hurt me. It's just a dream."

"Of course," the demon agreed, sounding delighted.

She followed him out the front door and onto the dirt road in front of the house. They stood them for a minute in silence, just staring at each other.

"Well?" Calypso asked, annoyed. "Aren't you gonna say something?"

"Yes, you'll be perfect," the demon murmured, not taking his eyes off her. She was getting increasingly uncomfortable by the second.

"Perfect?" she repeated impatiently. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, Calypso, you have no idea of the plans we have for you," Yellow Eyes told her proudly.

"What plans?" she demanded in frustration. "Do you honestly think I'm gonna go along with anything _you_ think up?"

"You already are," he said with a smile. Calypso was at the point where she wanted to start screaming at him, but held back, needing to know more. "You see, the part you play in all this is bigger than you think. You're more than just some freak, Calypso. You're a piece of art, a masterpiece."

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure," she agreed sarcastically. "It must have taken a lot of time and effort to shape my past just right. Make sure all of my family and friends ended up dead!"

"No, no, no, you have it wrong," Yellow Eyes disagreed. "Those were just some… Unfortunate side effects."

"You're kidding, right? Everyone I love ends up dead and you're calling that a side effect?!" Calypso screamed at him.

"It was the result of creating you," Yellow Eyes told her. "Granted, neither side actually knows what you really are or how you were made, but what we were told was that you were special and you would be the one, in the end, who would save or destroy this world. Whichever side captured you first and was able to tame you… They would win. And we have you, Calypso. We will never lose track of you. And now, all because of you, now we will win."

"That sounds pretty far-fetched to me," Calypso claimed, though she was becoming nauseous at the idea. "Who exactly did you hear this crap from?"

"Oh, you'll find out soon, dear Calypso," Yellow Eyes told her with a smile. "But for now, I think you want to know what's going on here."

Calypso hesitated, wanting to know more, but realized knowledge of the present was more important at the moment.

"I'm listening," she told him angrily.

"See, you know all that nonsense about psychic soldiers in the upcoming war?" Calypso nodded slowly. "Well, I don't need them. Not all of them. I already have my army. Or," he corrected himself, "I will soon. What I do need, though, is someone to lead them."

Silence.

"What do you mean?" Calypso whispered, gears turning in her mind. Why would they be put here if the demon only needed one? The conclusion was easy to come upon. "This is a competition, isn't it? A fight to the death."

"Bingo!" the demon told her happily. "I only need the best of them. I only need the one that will succeed in leading my army."

"You want Sam, don't you," Calypso realized. "He already knows about the supernatural and his skills are nice and sharp. He's shown he can easily take charge and lead a group. And you think he's gonna kill these people?"

"When it comes down to it, yes," the demon told her. "When they start attacking him, he won't have a choice." Calypso furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "What, you think you're the only one I'm speaking to?"

"You can't just turn everyone against each other," Calypso argued. "I won't let that happen."

"You won't have a choice," Yellow Eyes said. "Why do you think I brought you here? Clearly, you're not one of my psychics." Calypso clenched her fists. "Calypso, you're here because your talents need to be perfected. You have so much unrealized potential." His eyes looked over her hungrily. "You need to become stronger, discover more of your powers."

"No," she protested. "I won't do it. I don't want these powers. I don't want to be able to do these things!"

"You don't have much of a choice," the demon pointed out with a smile. He looked back out the house. "It appears our time is up." As the scene faded away, Calypso heard one more thing. "I look forward to working with you, Calypso Daemgelus."

/

When Calypso's eyes shot open, the room had one less person in it than before. Jake and Andy quickly informed her that Ava was missing, so she turned and shook Sam awake to pass on the news. He took charge and told Calypso and Jake to follow him outside, while Andy would wait and see if Ava returned. Calypso, knife in hand, patrolled the streets as Sam searched the houses and Jake looked through the barn and hotel, all hoping Ava would turn up alive. After a few minutes surrounded by the cold darkness, Calypso felt a sudden jerk in her stomach and heard a feminine scream from the abandoned house they had all been gathered in just a few minutes before, and she turned around and sprinted back. She didn't realize she had ventured so far away, so it took her longer than it should have to follow the scream back. She heard voices as she slowly stepped through the door, Sam and Ava. Listening closely, she pushed herself into the wall beside the doorway to the room they were in, knife up and pointed outward. As she stood there, she realized the entire house reeked of death.

"Andy wouldn't do that," Calypso heard Sam say coldly. Andy? What was going on? Was he okay? "Ava, that line wasn't broken when I left." There was a pause. "Ava."

"What?" Ava asked, her voice almost exaggerating her distress too much. Oh god. What did she do? "You don't think that I—"

"I'll tell you what I think. Five months. You're the only one with all that time you can't account for," Sam pointed out. "And that headache you got? Right when the demon got Lily."

"What are you trying to say?"

"What happened to you?"

"Nothing!" Ava claimed. It was silent for a few seconds and Calypso could almost feel Sam staring Ava down, wanting the truth. Suddenly there was a small laugh as Ava dropped the act. Calypso clenched her fist around the knife, realizing what she must have done in her five months here. "Had you going though, didn't I?" Ava said, all emotion missing from her voice. "Yeah. I've been here a long time. And not alone, either. People just keep showing up. Children, like us. Batches of three or four at a time."

"You killed them?" Sam asked, horrified. "All of them?"

"I'm the undefeated heavyweight champ," Ava revealed proudly. No. There was no way…

"Oh my God," Sam muttered in disbelief.

"Don't think God has much to do with this, Sam," Ava whispered, a sick joy clear on her voice. Calypso gritted her teeth in hatred.

"How could you?"

Calypso hesitated, though she wanted to run in and stab the bitch. Anger was filling her mind, making it hard to think, hard to function…

"I had no choice. It's me or them. After a while, it was easy. It was even kind of fun. I just stopped fighting it."

_A swirling cloud of red…_

"Fighting what?"

_Getting thicker and thicker…_

"Who we are, Sam. If you'd just quit your hand-wringing and open yourself up, you have no idea what you can do. The learning curve is so fast, it's crazy, the switches that just flip in your brain." She laughed. "I can't believe I started out just having dreams. Do you know what I can do now?"

_Overwhelming, so much, so much_…

"Control demons."

_ So much anger, so much __rage__…_

"Ah, you are quick on the draw. Yeah, I'm sorry, Sam. But, it's over."

_So much power… Power… __POWER__!_

Calypso had no control over herself as she clenched her fists hard enough to make her knuckles pop, and felt her anger finally take a hold of something. She heard Ava gasp and felt her struggle against the grip, but Calypso had no trouble strengthening her grasp. Almost smiling, she stepped into the next room, staring at Ava as if she was in a trance. She didn't register the panic on the girl's face or the shock on Sam's, just let her anger take its toll on Ava. The girl was gasping for breath, her hands desperately scratching at her throat, but her effort was futile and she slowly fell to the floor. Calypso held on tight as Ava's life slipped away, and even as her anger gradually disappeared, she continued to stare down at the pitiful corpse on the floor.

"Oh my god," Jake's low voice exclaimed from across the room. Calypso whipped around, suddenly terrified. What had she done?

Then the exhaustion set in, overwhelming all her senses at once. It took Calypso a moment to realize what was going on, then she staggered forwards into Sam, who pulled her close. She shut her eyes, feeling comfort in the warm embrace.

The last thing she felt was the worn fabric of his jacket.

/

Calypso was laying down when she woke up, surrounded by gravel and dirt. Groaning, she pushed herself up into a sitting position, though her entire body protested against doing so. All she wanted was the sweet nothingness of sleep and rest. But she realized that wouldn't happen as the scene in front of her slowly registered in her mind. Jake was attacking Sam and though Sam was holding his own, Jake's super strength was clearly coming in handy.

As she watched, too dazed and tired to do anything, Jake tried to kick Sam as he was on the ground, but Sam, being the excellent fighter he was, kicked out at the same time. Both grunted in pain as Sam scrambled onto his feet, then focused in on each other again. Calypso looked on as if it was a movie, still not comprehending what was truly going on. Sam and Jake exchanged blows and Calypso could hear the crunch of Sam's shoulder as it was hit by Jake's fist, even from fifteen feet away. Sam fell to the ground again as the pain registered, but forced himself to get back up. Jake approached once again to swing at Sam, but this time Sam was ready. He ducked out of the way and let the attacking fist punch through a wooden railing and get stuck. Sam, taking advantage of the situation, kneed him several times and kicked him down. As Jake laid there, winded, Sam picked up an iron bar and hit him with it as he tried to attack. Sam then raised it as if he was considering bringing it down, then hesitated and threw it aside. Calypso blinked as the situation suddenly set in, then slowly struggled to get to her feet. As she heard a familiar voice calling in the distance, it gave her more strength.

"Sam!" Dean called. "Callie!"

Calypso could have cried with happiness if she wasn't so exhausted. As it was, she still managed to stand up, no matter how shaky the action seemed.

Sam seemed just as relieved as he staggered towards his brother, still clutching his hurt arm. Calypso could make out the two shapes of Dean and Bobby approaching as she stumbled forwards a couple steps and smiled, finally calming down. It was over. It was all over.

"Dean!" Sam called back in relief and happiness. Calypso couldn't force any noise out, but she knew Dean would understand what she meant to say.

"Hey, look out!" Dean yelled, picking up his pace. Calypso turned around, a dimwitted smile still on her face, and didn't see the knife until it was stabbed through Sam's spine.

"NO!" Calypso screeched, words finally coming out of her mouth. She vaguely heard Dean's yells from behind her, but all that mattered were Sam's gasps as he fell to his knees. Calypso closed the rest of the distance between them and collapsed, too, as Dean slid to the ground in front of Sam. Calypso looked at the wound in Sam's back, hoping that she might be able to heal it, but knew in her heart that such a task would be impossible. An injury this massive, already sucking the life out of him… Calypso had no chance. Her eyes surprisingly dry, Calypso looked up and Dean and just shook her head, unable to wrap her mind around this scene.

_This can't be happening._

"Sam!" Dean exclaimed. His brother's head fell forward onto his shoulder. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, Sam. Sam! Hey! Hey, hey. Come here. Let me look at you." He placed his hand on the wound in Sam's back, covering his entire hand in blood. Calypso saw at that moment any trace of hope disappear from Dean's face, but he struggled to hide it.

_Please God, please, don't let this be happening._

"Hey, look at me. It's not even that bad. It's not even that bad, all right? Sammy? Sam!" Sam's head was beginning to wobble and a painful feeling was starting to take over Calypso's heart. He was dying, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

"It's okay, Sam," Calypso whispered, her voice breaking. She did her best to keep the tears from overflowing, but she couldn't do it. Not anymore. "We've got you."

_No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!_

"Hey, listen to me. We're gonna patch you up, okay?" Oh god, no, please no. "You'll be good as new. Huh? I'm gonna take care of you." She should've known it would happen eventually. "I'm gonna take you care of you. I've got you. That's my job, right? Watch out for my pain-in-the-ass little brother?" Dean touched Sam's face, hoping against hope that his brother was still alive. "Sam? Sam! Sam! Sammy!"

Sam's eyes slid shut and his entire body slumped forward. The painful sensation in Calypso's heart reached its peak and she cried out in pain and despair as Dean held on tight to his little brother.

"No. No, no, no, no, no, no. Oh, God. Oh, God," Dean cried, in denial.

"Please," Calypso sobbed, tears dripping down her cheeks in waterfalls of despair. "Please, no. Please!"

"SAM!"


End file.
